From peeling walls to lamplit dock

A poem strung together from a few dreams I've written down over the past year

From peeling walls to lamplit dock

The boatman guides me South

As gunfire crackles and unmarked vans snatch innocents from the streets

I am pulled down into this cavernous

womb station;

Waiting

Relinquishing

My nakedness returns

as clothes are sucked into the gears

Barely digested

I must cross oceans,

close chapters.

Your domestication

has at times been your undoing.

Your energies yoked

To serve

Books full of numbers

Let your wildness return

despite the pain

Alive to all that is dying

There is a rhythm to be kept

Footsteps to place

Hugs to give

Encounters to give way to

Breathe into your resonance with Creation.

Trust the boatman

Laugh — for what else is there to do?

Your guardians can rest today

Revel in the mystery

Rejoice your blessings

You have been granted a bounty of love and protection

Rare among men

Give thanks my child

The weaving is pulling you into a magnificent maelstrom