In The Night of My Revelation

[DonMar]

Experimenting with 'writing from the heart'' - a kind of stream of consciousness.

Go for it, folks.

Donna

UPDATE: Adjustments (a couple indicated in blue) have been made, based on feedback.

In The Night Of My Revelation

I dreamed I held a crystal ball,
and all the gypsies in the world
flowed like a river to my door.

There were more than I could number
of prophets and oracles, vendors
of miracles, makers of a mythology
twisted to seem truth that bled like wine
into the mouths of captive generations,
choked them with bread, expanding
to fill the space that needs
no nourishment but
the manna of heart and mind.

I awoke troubled; but the moon,
reaching through the shutter,
pinned my shoulder to the bed,
and I fell back into a fevered slumber.

In the dream again, I saw angels,
disenfranchised, tumble like tears
down the face of the moon,
silent as death, and bleak
as a baby's last breath.

My pillow was wet when I awoke.
Slivers of radiance pierced the floor,
and I stumbled outdoors,
where the sun hung like a ripe lemon,
and rose petals littered the moist grass.

I scooped up a handful, flung them into the air,
then joyful, watched them flutter
inside the ball of glass.

© Donna Devine