By an old, crumbled sidewalk, worn by human feet
there by it is a wise, blooming lily tree
who spreads its foggy shadow over five children;
greedily picking white lilies sprouting
from its chiseled, strong trunk of eld.
But they were dismayed, and so were I,
for we'd not even allowed a small catch of scent
from their virgin, charming petals.
It all had vanished into mist and cloud,
and so I had gone home alone,
and when the door shut close,
my fingers and hands hurt oddly so;
and upon looking down, did I notice
the large tacks embedded painfully
in the lined flesh of my hands,
through the spaces of my fingers.
They had great grey tops,
which were akin in size to the width of my thumb.
Wrenching it out, blood spurted
from a gaping hole once closed.
It hurt all too much, so I left the others all in.
The lilies had betrayed me, and how odd it was.
I remember nothing more from such a rich dream;
save for how dark clouds dropped so low
to a mortal, black and white world
and how a mere child easily swiped them away.
But I thought it all ended, my mind betrayed
for that was not the case.
I lay in bed again, dream or real, I cannot tell;
the room was dark, and I was buried in sheets.
I saw nothing, but I heard a voice by my ear
and it told me something profound:
"The lilies represent fives and sevens,
in other people's dreams", and with no response,
I pulled the sheets over my head,
and it was all so real; all so very real,
for I do the same awake,
when something goes bump in the night.
I yearn to walk the white lily road twice,
not once, whether it be a month or a year
I await a glad return;
to something so ephermal and sweet.
(A/N: In case it is of interest, this dream was actually interpreted for me and they said there's "a strong sense of the ephemeral - that which 'comes and goes'... like flowers. They are beautiful and joyous and then they pass and die back to where they came from. "5" can mean change and "7" can be a mystical number, referring to heaven and so forth. Lilies are associated with Christ, in my understanding. The whole energy of the dream seems to connect with a kind of passage and return, like the way the clouds spring out of the flowers and there's also those tacks in my hands that are Jesus-like.")
Points: 481
Reviews: 117
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