Unborn Worlds
Our dreams unborn await us in the dark,
The darkest and the deepest part of brain.
Our dreams are not like honey. They are stark
Like lust and stinging venom. They want stain
And swelling to remain once they have left
Us harmed. A bee, or wasp, or rattlesnake
They want to put to shame. We shrug their heft
And can’t escape their haunting, leaving ache
And hunger. Haze and wound they leave, not God.
No Christ can come. A vacuum is what
We want. Our nightmares make us feel like sawed
In half magicians’ tricks and cut through gut.
..We pray for holy therapy but get
….Another session like a bayonet.
~ Phillip Whidden