. Poetry from The Great In-Between: Covid Dreams

Sunday, February 19, 2023

Covid Dreams

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Salute.

 

(A lone voice whispers)


Kneeling to pray 

One Sunday 


Looking at the sky 


I felt like Moses

As he climbed those high mountains 


At

Mount Sinai 


For as I closed my eyes 


I felt my soul cry 

Sitting alone in its throne room 


My own inner tower from heaven 


As it saw how the light of hope was dwindling 


With corruption 

Casting its long shadows 


On the many visiting 

Young and old sinners 


Who foolishly take its bribes 

To then walk 


In a new cold wind that blows 

From deep down below


With so many others 

Who now belong 


To the Devils many tribes 


And in these dark days of unrest

With many souls walking around 


Lost 


In forests of turmoil 

At sea or on soil 


Depressed


Factions of souls

Who wander dreaming 

Lost


Through many enticing temptations 


I always wonder 


Do they plead for purification

As they slowly erode to dust


Quietly drowning

In tumultuous promoted oceans 

Of distrust


To cleanse themselves 


In the deepest wells of the 

Primeval fountains of life 


Are they but wild spirits

Dancing ravenously under a moonlit sky 


Before they die 


Bathing in nocturnal essences


Chanting 


Artemis

Diana

Hecate


As their shadows spiritually 

Twist around the primordial fire 


Kissing naked skins of desire 


Raising arms in exultation 

And programmed hate


Screaming


Mother 

Maiden 

Crone 


Will you bless us 

And take us home 


My soul 

Just whispers 


In those crazy silent moments


It's a mad world 


A mad 

Mad world 


As the old age of kindness 

Seems to burn


(C)

Copyright John Duffy


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