Fateful Dream

i wandered out in the dead of night

and questioned who may have been making me dream;

for the ghosts who sang came not of my mind;

they ached and cried,

and shook and sighed,

and made me do the same:

am i an able man?

whose shoes do I wear?

and have i worn them before?

three times I asked myself these questions,

and three times I heard only the emptiness

of the dead fire in my chest:

until the triple knot of existence

swelled up inside of me

and breathed blue fire

acrylic on canvas, 22"x30"