in the dream

i'm almost running in place in the barnyard
i'm getting very little traction but the event of this
it's dawning on me in the dream it's a metaphor
and so the scene changes / at first i'm in a field
of speckled foxglove taller than my head
and buried in a deep memory under the cherry leaves
my own internal cherry leaves and behind the traffic
of the gesticulating bodies of milkweed assassin bugs
are the zealous longpipes of the long wave memories
of my dream of vitharsa the smooth black shadow
furred in obsidian who attends the ring maze
which surrounds the column of fire

the barnyard is quiet but they are coming
and i cannot run / through the ruins of the concrete bunker
i cannot see them but know they are there
i'm a small frog lounging tenderly in a floxglove blossom
imagining all the things in physics a heavy boot
could be

in alternate dimensions or in just one
outer space might be white instead of black
and the colors of stars completely speckled
with color

are they deranged farmers who arrive to hunt me?
are they herpetologists? vitharsa speaks then to me
as a small frog in my foxglove blossom
he comes as a tower of milkweed assassin bugs
a halloween of pixels chattering of grids
of spaces

vitharsa tells me
that a long time ago
a magnetic monopole became conscious
and took the form of a human through dreams
but i'm laughing i'm saying
'but, i'm a frog' and these small spaces
aren't mine

"space is wide" says vitharsa
"the pyramid of water made from
pyramids of water is the sign
of my heavy boot"

the toe of excess
which gives it traction