I wrote this poem 2009. But with the events that is now unfolding in the Near East I feel that my words are even more true today. /GG


Strange Dreams

When no one is here my soul to keep
A dream comes to me where I sleep
In the darkness I hear the angels weep
And my mind is flying low and deep

I see people thrown in the burning sea
I see them drown in greed and desire
I can feel the smell of burning flesh
And I hear the cries from cities on fire

I see them rise like mist from the grave
In line upon line they walk enslaved
They've tried to take heaven by force
And were lost on the road to be saved

Some people carry the sign of the Cross
Some they listen to the Prophet's call
Others they wear the Star of David
But Abraham is father of all

At the roadside a lonely horseman rests
Tired from riding his pale white horse
Unseen by the people walking past
With hardened hearts without remorse

The horseman pursues an ancient mission
On his lonesome journey from dawn of time
To mend the vessels and bring us a vision
Of the Golden City in our Self so sublime

Copyright © 2009 Göran Gustafsson. All rights reserved




Poetry by Göran Gustafsson
Read 709 times
Written on 2014-08-26 at 15:04

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I love this! Definitely bookmarked. :-)
2014-08-26