Three Caskets of Dreams

 “Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.”

~ The Merchant of Venice

The mind stores every memory at least

Three times.  You do not have to speculate.

You know exactly why.  Collapsed and creased

Deep down in brain memoir, these thoughts await

Ascension, soul migration into forms

Required for needs.  Appearing just as facts,

Thoughts help with tasks.  But sometimes they are corms

Inside the heart, more like those tongues in Acts,

Those tongues of fire afloat outside the head

Too big for skull, they matter much, much more,

Like buried Christ arising from the dead

And often made of love, love’s scars and gore.

  Yet mostly they are buried nightmares, dreams

    And visions — dumb — suppressed as strangled screams.

~ Phillip Whidden

by phillipw | Aug 24, 2024 | BO, DA, FR, JU, PE, PS, TH, Uncategorized | 0 comments