creativity · dreams · poetry · writing

Close Call

In dreamtime, he comes,
my eclectic animus –
sometimes raven,
often tree,
he seduces –
first in conversation
then in arousing flesh –

Spellbound, witless,
my edges soften, melt,
and just at the moment
of near surrender,
lucidity knocks,
yanks me from watery
depths – sets me back
on conscious soil –

Anchored anew,
I shake off the lingering
tingle, brain abuzz,
reconnect with aged
limbs, mundane ills
and skedaddle.

(Catching up with Reena’s Exploration challenge – image provided; and linking up with Manic Mondays 3 Way Challenge – anchored; and Ragtag Community’s – skedaddle; and Fandango’s – eclectic.)