The Quiddity Of His Dreams

He went to bed last night

with all the brain blood thrust of a farm boy

running barefoot through his dreams

eager - arm shoulder hand outstretched

reaching for a stallions booty

lawless - unique

He dreamt of

youths infectious merriment

spreading its seed

of sultry angels wanting themselves to death

and the scared and sacred memories left

on many shoulders to bare

In the thick black air of slumber

his demons now dreaming

nawing on moody wounds

devouring his well-being

he awoke in mid-gasp to find

his uncrowned - unplanned life

the quiddity of his dreams

He shook the night from his head

and philosophized noetic

about the task of living

and accept what’s given

to portend a bright outcome

Deservingly he holds the

initiates key before him

realizing God is playing him

con spirito like a

finely tuned instrument

Like the way he plays

our hearts on his

or how he finds a home

in the glimmer of an eye

and a friend

in everyone he meets.

~ for Kenny Hillman