In my dreams there’s always
A filmy wall
Giving way to secrets.
It might be a portal,
Or a game, or even the
Unconscious Hades of my own mind
Trying to pierce the thin veil
Either way it’s a theme
Over which my mind obsesses.
Night after night, doors and orifices
Opening in the facilities of logic,
Always followed by a feeling
Of something ancient.
As though a portal to the middle ages
Suddenly opened on Third and Pike:
Cavalries and queens pouring out
Amongst the sluggish traffic,
Blood-hungry superstitions floating down
Onto the cold verandahs,
The fierce god of cathedrals
Claiming his place
Amongst the neon valleys of the city
While the swordless citizens
Run away in awe.
Lord, what it is to feel here
Amongst the loneliness of sundials,
Amongst the cryptic lights
Of galaxies, amongst the avenues
Of strangers, and the pigeons
Near the bay.
Let me touch the edge of some
Giant painting; in which the ocean,
In which the vast turbulent cities,
In which all the pain inside
Our bodies, weld together into blue.
Let me feel in the clandestine gardens,
In the sadness filled by clocks,
The one great loneliness
That eventually gives over
To the firebrands of love.
Seth Jani is the founder of Seven CirclePress (www.sevencirclepress.com) and his own poems have appeared throughout the small press in places like The Foundling Review, Red River Review and Gutter Eloquence. More about him and his work can be found at www.sethjani.com.