Dream Yoga

(Written 19 February 2011)

I’m talking on dream airways
it’s 5am no sounds form
in the cellphone of our minds
I’m trying to explain:
stairwells of the stars jangled nerve endings
optic fibres retain your darkened image

I’m snatching small gestures,
you discuss her like an option for a meal,
a set menu of family, no, ”special choice“
just marriage, birth, circumcision,
old testament re-kindled in a common blood, your blood.

But it’s here and now that people decide to love.

Reason is branded in your brow,
I’m elemental angel wings
and your mind jitters crossing water, climbing mountains,
running from your own heels squeezing me to fit your truth
operating break out clauses.

Am I the boundary for your chaos?

Talking on dream airways,
5am we sleep divided by a history so deep
it’s killing us; like suicide bombers on Jerusalem streets
we maim the innocent with no expectation of escape.

Wash my hands clean
of your weakness, switch off the power,
listen to the rain cleansing city streets
forget to remember what we might have been in heaven,
on cinema screens, with children laughing at our feet.

Forget to remember
what time and culture has stolen from us.
Want to listen to our breathing,
riding desert highways manipulating the boundary of this dream
and choosing.

It’s 5am

Are you with me?

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