Within the Rhythms of the Rain

Roy John Wheelock

As you lay, chained to your bed, spread between the day and sleep
see the pictures, on your eyelids, that aren't there
electric hues, flashing through your mind, patterns.

Is this really a place.
I sometimes change the protein colored scenes
reflecting in between the mirrored lines.
Acetylcholine, catacholamines, with quantum dreams
we become ideal.

She was a brave and tender maiden
cast into darkness and despair.
Our shame, we left the fairest gender
to bleed and die in the cruel, cold mountain air.

Dark Lady,
riding golden circles in the sand
without whips
without spurs
he is at your command
Dark Lady

And so for you I right with poem
a metaphysical metaphor, a simple tome, to me
in it we throw our incantations
two futures all the world to see

if only they would hear you
if only words could free you
if only I could divide by zero

Dark Lady, Dark Lady, Dark Lady