Where on the wind …

 

Where on the wind does

our mind fly, with

wings outspread into

what night sky?

 

Is it to pictures of love

and fleshy desire

that we soar off to

in those dark hours?

 

Or to other concerns

of spiritual bent, are

the questions we ask

of Godly ascent?

 

In the wake of those

moments are we best

served to be baking

thoughtful progress

or mindless dessert?

 

Is it true that we

percieve under night’s

dark shade all of that

thought or seen in the

light of our day?

  

For if that is held true

and we see in our dreams

all the troubles of man,

all inglorious schemes,

then maybe in night

is our time to reflect,

on the side of ourselves

we fight to neglect.

  

For a fight it is with our

darkling selves, with monsters

of life all aligned on our mind’s

shelves, they jump to the fore,

they march line on line,

infecting our sleep, crippling

our mind.

  

So edge into sleep wisely, with

clear conscience kept, for if not

then wet pillows mean

you surely have wept.

  

Glenn D. Clarke / 2009