Littered With Feathers

Last night
In dreamland
I was an owl
Made of stone

Standing in a parallel world
Censored with sacred shadows
I observed mysterious travelers

They spun diaphanous memoirs
Of fertile green phenomenons and
Life or Death decisions

I could see the words
Lilt down their chins
Falling into the dirt
Like lush embryos
They sprouted lustful
That would slink away 
Into the shadows

Sneaking about
Pleasantly deformed and
Seemingly sempiternal
They dug up ancient bones
Ground them to powder and
Made sticks of magic chalk

Surrounding me I saw their eyes
Hollow and ethereal
Speaking in a foreign tongue
With the mysterious travelers
That spawned them

They all began to chant a spell
And pass around the sticks of chalk
Each placing specific symbols
Upon my stony surface

I felt a fire
As my body 
Began to crack
Falling away

Suddenly I burst forth
Able to spread my wings
But as soon as I attempted flight
I awoke in my bed

Strangest part of it all
The window was open
And my room 
Littered with feathers

Β©James Dennis Casey IV

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