The Dream and The Forest

The map of the kingdom of my heart

hangs on a wall behind my eyes;

a fragile civilization, perhaps

destroyed by a moment of diverted attention.

Here is a forest at the center ,

dark and secret .

The ancient ones

performed burials here

where the earth meets the sky ,

at dusk

and dawn ,

imprinting their grief and wonder and joy

on the tree rings,

in the crystal veins of rock below ,

a vascular transit system for their phantom energy

I feel those pulses when I walk here

in a deep sleep dream .

My absolute power

as ruler in this kingdom

grants me the choice

to burn it all down

with a whisper

if I want to.

(I want to)

But I am the ruler here.

I am responsible.

I maintain these carefully constructed

structures ,

these secret, knowing trees

with benevolent care, a dictator of good,

my decrees clear and thoughtfully considered ,

a violent fist in a velvet glove .

If I let you in

to walk here, too,

I’m going to have to ask you to surrender

that lighter in your pocket ,

put the fire brigade

on standby ,

commandeer the tanker trucks and

water planes .

How does one say "No. Thank you ."

to the warming fires

of the daytime sun

as it creeps over the horizon?