Nightmares

Sometimes I have nightmares and the memories keep me up long past the next night, too afraid to sleep again.

I see soldiers marching down my street, helmets on their heads, guns in their hands, hatred in their frightened eyes and I know they could turn at any moment, shoot me, or drag my daughter into the street. I see the smiling faces of children in a candy store shattered by the clown who drives by and honks before exploding.

I see beakless chickens run screaming down blood soaked streets trying to save their chicks and cows in agony on waterboards in dimly lighted arsenals.

On these nights it is better to seek the silence and listen for the light that carries me away with love.