What lurks in your darkest mind?
If you open the door, what will you find?
Creak, Creak, Creak.
The door opens but closes right away.
We must go in.
We have but seconds.
It’s dark in here.
I hear sniffles, grunts, shuffles.
It is a barn.
A bird just pulled on my hair.
Feathers are flying.
Claws are reaching for us.
The door behind us is locked.
We could climb up to the hay loft.
We could escape through its window.
Come on, I’ll pull you up.
We made it.
A bird is coming at us.
Oh no! It has taken my friend.
Here comes another one.
He’s strange looking.
A furry body with a man’s face.
THE DEAD GAME
ROUND AND ROUND WE GO
The day began bright and sunny.
The merry-go-round turned round and round.
Children’s laughter filled the air.
Followed by shouts of joy.
The smell of popcorn wafted by.
Followed by the sweet smell
of cotton candy.
Round and round went the horses.
Followed by the mothers’ eyes.
Round and round we go.
Followed by the rays of sunlight.
Until the sky turned dark.
Heavy with clouds.
Followed by shrieks of thunder.
The sky lit up with lightning.
The merry-go-round was pelted by rain drops.
Followed by a heavy downpour.
The horses circled faster and faster.
The mothers followed.
Until all was gone.
All that was left was mud.
No shouts of laughter.
Only wet grass.
Where did they disappear to?
To a better place?
To a place without thunder and lightning?
Your guess is as good as mine.
Where are we going in such a hurry?
With our bags all packed.
Fleeing the scene of a crime?
Perhaps a lover’s dispute?
The carriage is here.
Police sirens wail in the distance.
The story is getting better
as I watch from
my bedroom window.
Sitting on a hill.
No houses nearby.
Only the comfort
of a bare tree.
The wind rattles
through my open beams.
Snow drifts in from my roof.
And deafening silence.
Will it always be so?
Will the sun shine ever again?
Will horses return to my stables?
I could only wait and hope.
The snow can be beautiful.
It can be white and clean.
Horses prancing in its white down.
Snow flakes falling from the cold sky.
Children dressing warm to play.
Yes, snow can be beautiful.
Beautiful when it’s fresh and new.
A book can bring images to mind.
Happy images or frightful images.
Anywhere you might want to visit,
you can close your eyes and
see it in your mind’s eye.
On a day that you might feel agitated or sad,
you can envision a scene of perfect tranquility.
Sit back, take off your boots, and close your eyes.
A whole word will open before you.
A world with open spaces, tall mountains, and
horses grazing in the green grass.
The sun is sparkling on the sand and rocks.
Mosquitoes are buzzing in the warm breeze.
You can hear the sound of a horse’s soft neigh.
No one else is around;
only you and the horses.
Close your eyes and dream your own dream.
Since it’s your own creation,
you can never be disappointed.