S E V E N

The crowd dispersed,
As did its mirth,
And left him in the round,

Until the slow
Diluted glow
Of embers slipped their crown.

And silence broke
As night awoke
Until, ashamed, he lay,

But fearing dreams,
And their regimes,
He let the twilight stay.
* * * *
An urgent shake
Shot him awake
Before he realized it,

But thankfully
No visions breezed
Across the dawn’s horizons.

And helped to rise
He met the eyes
Of the previous day’s seer,

Who made him feel
At once serene
Whilst equally unclear.

He gently smiled
And gliding, filed,
Them both towards a table,

Where food was laid,
And mead arrayed,
And privacy enabled.

With breakfast planned
The man began
Explaining what occurred,

And how the tale
The boy revealed
Had frozen all who heard.

As from days past
A legend lasts
Of ill received foretelling,

And that a youth
Will dream the truth
Of future for the selling.

And knowing not
The force begot
Will come to activate it,

And trade for pain,
And its terrain,
All beauty incarnated.

Our boy looked sacked,
But quickly asked
The man about his power;

The day before
When heeding all
To caution and to scour.

The man confirmed
That many learn
The art of precognition,

But not in youth,
Or sleep, for sooth,
And never with ambitions.

And older, now,
He’d lost know how
Of finer cultivations,

And guessed most things
Because the winds
Brought decent information.

The lad stood up
And drained his cup,
Then spoke of last night’s rest,

A dreamless sleep
Of instant peace
With no illusions blessed.

The old man’s shade
Turned morning jade,
Then evening fatigue,

And whispered once
A short sequence
Of words he’d long received:

“When dreams commit
Themselves to it,
then it will surly come;

When dreams emit
The opposite,
then it is nearly done.”

Then rising bowed,
And turned around,
And left the boy alone,

Who did not move
Or act to prove
Himself a chaperone.

But as he felt
His haunches melt,
And leave him to his falling,

He heard the sound
Within the town
Of messengers a calling.