Timothy McCune

Dream Box Opened to the Occasion Day or Night

Ethereal Mists Swirling in the Light of Day in Dream Reality

Nights Embrace Whispers Mad Language of Soaring Castles and A Mother’s Comfort

Malevolent Eyes Haunt the Night, Spangle in Light

Childhood Dreams Fly on the Wings of Rainbows

Galaxies of Stars that can only be Dreamt in Dark of Night Become Points of Pain by Day

Compartments of Thought, Secrets Hidden Deep Bloom Rarely In Dawn’s Light

Full Fevered Old Men Ride the Snake in Strange Forests of Dark And Light

Until the Final Revelation Offers up the Soul to    

               The Universal Dream