just lately, right around 2am, i can hear jets flying back and forth along the coastline
this goes on for hours so i finally rise as the dawn cracks at 5 as the ravens arrive with one big
coo as rosie's paw and wimper nudge for attention by then i am exhausted by my dreaming often
apocalyptic often quagmired in some kinda gestalt that i know i got to work this shit out by now
by ebb and flow and often that the dreamtime is more soothing especially these days that the waking time
is
and i know i know i know deep down inside that all my longings and all my hopes all things dashed and driven out by the angry and vengeful fates now make sense now have a clear voice now become
my pony to ride into the mystery.
