How many dreams hold a key, a hint
to a closely held secret of the universe?
If only we could decipher such psychic glyph.
They seem not a gift, but a tease
dissipating before a fluttering mind's eye
like a wisp of smoke above glowing ember.
Now and then the universe blinks,
a dream is grasped and held shakingly.
Pinned down like a bug now,
analyze, examine, dissect...
But horrors ooze from within,
and cannot be put back.
In quaking realization see,
such meanings are not in malice hidden
but in mercy absorbed.
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