The Sun dipped down underneath my feet, the Moon tipping over my head Moonlight covered the snow and the sleet Sun’s shadows now darkness instead
Dragging my purchase through the cold slush Looking for sharp eyes in the trees No sound in here, not even a hush Still I dropped low and crawled on my knees
The Sun was gone now, her leave complete And the Moon stood fast in her stead Steady I moved, through cold and through heat Ignoring the buzz and the dread
But the buzzing got louder, the rush in my skull grew prouder to meet, MEAT. The scent of it strong in the crush. Crushing minds, crunching bones, his leave complete
Abandoned his senses, fight, flight and freeze, the Moon tipping over his head into much older senses, the kind that frees a man of the life that he lead
Gone is the man, as the Moonlight drips over his head Gone is the plan as he buries his snout in the red
flesh rending, tearing, ripping, staring. Staring at the prize at his teeth, it’s all that has meaning to this mind that is sharing But somewhere inside I still sleep
While the night passes on, and the lunar ticks know that soon she will come back once more. I know I’ll wake in a raw stew of bits He’ll take his leave, and she’ll take her’s as I was promised so, so many years before.
Bring to boil the pot and kettle
Cut the leaves and small trees
Leave behind the harsh reality
And extract the essence.
Sit and toil with molten metal
Push and heave, reach in and seize
Heave forward with gloves on, a finality
And react to the lesson.
Wipe the sweat from your brow
And the cinders from your chest
Put down the half-shaped tool
into the cool blue water.
The hot water is ready now
And the green is at your behest
Don’t weep for nature, only a fool
would weep for something so beautiful.
As the green dissolves in the bubbling mixture
Becoming one with its own, and more than it was
As the dulled grey steel gives way to its cause,
Dry and dead born into new life in boiling heat
Cold and blunt, once with no shape,
now molded with pointed purpose
ends it’s journey in steam to freeze.
Immutable things, a life lived ends,
they can go no further
until they are picked up with careful hands
And taken to the table where new life begins.
Transmutable dreams, where life goes depends,
Nature has its way with the grey and the green
But nature can be understood and those hands see them through their final elemental journey
For where life closes its eyes, blind at the end
The Alchemist sees.
I awaken,
and it feels so real. Like so much is happening at once, and like it all matters.
I take note of what is going on, and try to remember. I feel like it could be useful when I do wake up.
When I do wake up.
So I do know that this isn’t reality? But it does feel real. My emotions are strong and affecting, and hazards feel dangerous.
But still, I am aware.
And whether I’m running - it seems that I am running a lot - or I’m fighting, or winning, or losing,
eventually I do wake.
And the detail is so much. And things that are here, I realise weren’t there at all.
But I do try and remember the things I noted in my mind within a mind. Because I do believe that some of it could be useful. That I could take some of it with me into the waking world, the real world.
And I think that’s pretty amazing. That some parts of a dream can become more, in reality. And if that is true,
was I really asleep?
Things are different. Not bad, or better, just different.
It’s not that I’m indifferent. Far from it, to be honest. But I can’t say that I always think about it.
But when I do, think about it that is, I do wish that things were different,
I wonder what you are doing. or even what you look like now. And I wonder why.
Why did you do the things you did? And why do I feel that they were wrong, if no one else understands what I have done?
I can’t believe how long it has been. It hasn’t been easy for me, and I have no idea what it’s been like for you.
Your messages seem to tell me all that I need to know. But I hope that I’m wrong about that too.
And to be honest things aren’t so bad now, but I’ve got a long way to go. Maybe I wouldn’t have as far to go, if you had been different.
So while I do want to message you back and try and make things different, to make them how they used to be.
I’m not sure that I’m able to right now, because it will take a lot for me to do. Because now things are different.
