and that all my tears and fears have manifested with the setting of my sun?

For strange are my dreams here of late, for they fracture my worn and weary mind.

They tell of tales in which I fare not too well, and lend themselves to visions of hell.

For I have dreamed the end of mankind, and watched as millions before my eyes began dying.

Yet even still, it brings my soul to a unexpected chill, when I see my departed Mom alone and crying.

For in my dreams, she cries for me…calling…begging…and pleading for me to join her on the other side.

However though, I always awake, but I wonder of this and think, and I think that not much more of this can I take.

for what has become of my days of joy in the sun, when I ponder the very breath I take, and fear the next not to make.

I can recall the old folks saying, that as your hour approaches and your days are waning, that those who have gone before,

will appear to you in your dreams, calling you to just walk through that final and most certain of doors.

But how much stock can one apply to dreams, the ones of foreboding that slip through tattered seams?

However, I must confess, for I think that these thoughts I need to give some rest, I mustn’t dwell on them anymore.

For it is not in my control, but in His hands. For it is written in His Holy word…….

Psalms 139: 7-12

[7] Whither shall I go from thy spirit? or whither shall I flee from thy presence?
[8] If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there: if I make my bed in hell, behold, thou art there.
[9] If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;
[10] Even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.
[11] If I say, Surely the darkness shall cover me; even the night shall be light about me.
[12] Yea, the darkness hideth not from thee; but the night shineth as the day: the darkness and the light are both alike to thee.

J. Allen Wilson © 2004