Dream of Her

Dream of the Goddess.

A window cracked
Cracked all the way through.
I open the door
And move into
A hallway of mirrors
Fractured, divided
My image distorted
Colors blighted

I notice the fountain
Water, giver of life
And move to the left
Into a new life
Golden haired one speaks to me
Of things I cannot guess
Come morning I won’t remember
Her words’ sweet caress

So on I move
Into the next room
Where the dark haired witch
Appears to fly on her broom
She speaks to me
Of things difficult to embrace
Again come morning
Her words, erased

I move upstairs
The foyer full of mist
I sit in the pew
And see the old gray witch
Speaking from the pulpit
Words of wisdom and awe
And then I awaken
At my familiar’s insistent paw.