Field of flames

The dream is always the same.

I am walking through a field of flame,

the fumes choke me, silence my voice as it

strains to cry out, help! someone, anyone…

Suddenly I am not engulfed in flames but atop a mountain,

looking down I see the scurrying of people as they flit from their mothers breasts

to school and then to work, repeating an endless cycle of drudgery.

And then I see the wave, it is massive, beyond the scope of my vision, hurtling

towards them, I cry out to them run!  But they do not hear me, and they are taken,

reduced to nothingness.

I struggle now to wake, to flee from these images, to deny them.

But the dream is stronger and pulls me back in.

Alone again I walk the city streets, people walk through me as though I am a ghost,

and I scream at the top of my lungs for someone to notice me, but they do not.

No matter how many times I yell, no matter how many times I shout and demand

that they look me in the eye and acknowledge my presence, I am simply walked

past, my existence skirted over , unseen, uncared for.

I am in a field of fire, the flames surround me, I look around, gather my voice to

shout out for help ,struggle to pull myself from the dream..and then I pause.

Understanding dawns.

I do not dream, this is reality. This is life.

I walk into the flames.

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