he walks through the heavy fog,
long strides,
slowly he enters the zone of reality as he sees it,

stop haunting me
stop creeping up in my journals,
in my thoughts
and
thousands and thousands of light mala beads
fall from the skies
bouncing, hitting me on the head,
I trip over the ones on the ground,
slide and roll, trying to keep my balance

he sits, eating an apple,
a large juicy apple, that drips over his clothes,
over his off white loose shirt and pants,
he seems arrogant, eyes looking into somewhere
I have not been,
the crunch of the bites echo around me,
further disturbing my balance

flower petals appear from behind him and gather and float
amidst the buoyant mala beads,
the beads change colours,
light pastels, of rainbow hues,
and then puffs of incenses, swirl
amidst everything,
I try to dance, as I still slide

go away, my silent voice screams out,
leave me alone,
stop being so annoyingly mindful,
grab your beads,
and fly to your apple valley

get out of my dreams

it is many decades of separation,
yet you barge in,

he sits and starts to fade
chanting without moving his lips,

that he will be back ...

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Copyright©2017-1999 by Rebecca R. Hammack

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