I awoke this morning in despondence of a dream where I am standing in the stingy rain, feeling too wet. While the heat rises off the pavement, burning my cheeks, burning my heart that beats too fast, I cannot catch my breath. Questions arise in the shadows. Is there something in my heart that I deny? Or am I trying to force meaning and rationalization where they do not belong? And I fear the answer to the former is yes. And I awake in a sweat, soaking wet.

The deep red crush fades into a blue day, and I am confused by thought, by action, and my brave new day that went awry. And the tenderness that scares me as much as words.

When all the world's asleep, I stop to think. In this moment, here and now, I am crawling out of the deep red crush of my heart and heading out into a brave new day.

Death comes steadily, swiftly, on the frosted lips of early morn,

Dripping up into the shallow vanilla sky as the lone soul cries
Over a life yet unlived, and with trembling lips, whispers, I

Should have, could have, would have, if I had only known the time.
And he passes silently only after screaming to an empty room, No!

And the soul’s sister stares, turns into her pillow to weep and sleep
Finally until she awakes wandering in her gown, wondering, I

Should have, could have, would have, if I had only known the time.
And she passes restlessly on clouds of sorrow from room to room.

I don’t want to love or watch the sun die against his face. So blow North, Father Wind, and lift the hair from the nape of my neck, cool and tender, and leave the hand pressed against my back for me to grasp.

I could stop rationalizing and thinking as soon as I became focused enough to articulate clearly. I highly doubt either will occur.

In my mind and in my heart the dead and the undead reside in constant sorrow.

In my mind you'll find all the doubt and suspicion of four-thousand years, many lifetimes yet to reconcile. And I am tired yet the irrational and unfounded thoughts plagues me, and I feel I am going mad. Delightfully so.