They call them night mares,
those horses our souls ride
through the darkness that surrounds us
while our conscious minds sleep.
We do not reign there
they control themselves
or perhaps they respond to commands
known only to powers
that science says do not exist,
powers that hide silent in the night,
in a place where reason has no weight,
and an ancient intelligence still rules.
So, we wake, sweating,
and look to Freud,
or Jung,
or biochemistry,
and speak platitudes to ourselves,
or take a little pill,
to try and conquer powers
that hover at the edges of our world
waiting, as they have patiently done,
since before we were born,
and as they will continue to do
long after we are gone. |
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