Deep Sleep

Deep Sleep by James Eric Watkins


Serotonin seeps from the creek
of my mind, drips, nearly dries up
as I climb on to the back
of the dream bird

and take flight
its black-feathered wings
soaring through the night

The pineal gland master of ceremonies
is a wise but sometimes psychotic
conductor waving his hands wildly

while melatonin rains from the sky
I taste the fruit dangling in the dark
dripping its juices onto my lips

Images flash: faces from the past,
places, situations that defy all logic
but are somehow relevant to the
accumulation of personal thought

in the so-called reality
of our awakened world.



(c) 2010 James Eric Watkins