A dream

Was it only a dream or perhaps something more.
So much, it would seem, calls us. Beckoning us to something bigger than ourselves.

With each passing day it is hard to see it.

The world of humans, cycled into a spiral of self degradation, feels lost in there mindless creations.
Each moment, a chance to steal the safety of our own being.
Fear, a great motivator. Sheltering us into a box of ill-perceived safety.
This, of course, is where the weak minded want us.

Easily we are swayed and subdued. Fearing the warmth of the Sun and the healing beneath our feet.
We muster forward, or that is what we tell ourselves.
But in truth we recoil.
Regress into a conditioned sense of belonging and righteousness.
Divided and lost.

As screens fill our sights, and division seeps into our minds,
We comfort the layers of our existence.
Upon ourselves we hide amongst the production of 'happiness',
Burying the hopes and remembrance of something greater.
Misguided and misrepresented
We fall into conditioning and routine,
Easily we are seduced by false belonging,
False ease.
Replacing the nature of us with physical contortion.

Shall we be destined to be nothing more than an experiential malice, quickly forgotten?
Forever circling the chasms of our fear.
Will this repeater of history, so bound in proving how sentient we are,
be nothing more than a lost page of time floating endlessly through the planes of existence?

Even now, I feel the icy hand creep into my heart.
Chilling the bones of my self.
Darkness, so seductive, clamors for my company.

Perhaps I shall succumb.
Nestle deep into the chaos.
Keep steady and look down,
follow and conform to a calamity that, though it boasts peace,
will bring me to the chains of despondency and endless desires.

I have felt them, you know.
The comforting weight of them.
Like silk spread upon a bed, inviting and beckoning
The illusion of satisfaction only a dream away.
A temptress needing me only to allow myself to me swallowed.

 Ahhh...but I listen
Not to the endless wale of division,
the caterwauling of righteousness and blindness.
No, I listen

Beneath the calamity, behind the smoke of despair,
Can you hear it?
A soft tone, barely audible
The self.
The self.
Subtle, soft, consistent.

An echo locator for my soul
Whispers, 'Look up. Look up'
 And I listen.

My heart raises her head, slow and trembling
What will I see? The fears that taunt me? The chains that tickle my fingers?

'Open your eye'
So I listen.
And there, beyond the noise, the sun kisses the horizon
Dancing it's light upon the clouds
I can see, surpassing the visions of sight
Exceeding the malice, the endless space,
The light.

A dream?
Perhaps.
But awareness settles into my view
An endless wonder of selfs waking to the call
Separated, only by the distance created in the mind
Glimmering stars of hope in the vastness of ourselves.

The icy hand that threatened to take hold, melts and joins
Communion no longer a mysterious thought fraught with ego
I am awakened to the knowledge that a stormy sky is only that

Beneath the dank floor of decomposition, I hear them
Whispers, outside the limitations of the ear
The seeds buried in the madness, begin to sprout
Roots calling, feeling into one another

Hope renews on the waves of shadow
This is all
Brief flickers of light coalescing into flame
The nightmare from which I awoke to the dream in which we are
Unity, not only with one another, no longer a word,
but a reality, out stretched by the disadvantages of our eyes
Pulses of energy

From a place where language, as we know it, does not exist
We are birthed
Into a creation we have contorted,
We will flounder
In this cataclysm, onward we will forge the remembrance
Creation itself,
Free to encompass, to see, to listen,
To create that in which we dream we are.

One Earth.