A tear fell on my pillow this morn.
An awakening shone as a tiny dew drop.
Junctions in the atmosphere then consumed it.
A gilded feather passed o’er my furrowed brow.
This noble thought was felt.
Sound rung familiar as a door bell.
A darkened figure laid by my charred image.
It was the dark of night.
Hoping – searching for a place to saturate.
A tiny speck left flecks across the walls.
These floated down – across – mid the ground.
Tangible web could connect the dots.
A numbness buzzed in my ear drum.
Rain streaked the rainbow painting.
The reverberating sound(s) etched in articulation.
A sharpened razor found its home in a drawer.
Heat formed a straight line.
Heaven’s gates proved well defined.