The Dream Catcher

Eleven pendulum strings
Swinging in night transit
Fly running shadow shade
Maze veil light thread followers.
We turn & trail
Voices of the unseen
Circle of presence down
Streets, through trees
From floor to floor
Of the dream house
While wind whirr
Fuels the cycle
Of errant excitement.
Spiralling with increasing speed
Down meaning's gravity well,
Among the frogs & the fishermen,
Beachcombers & surrealists,
The shamans & the psychotics.

Fish in a shoal
We all turn on the
Same instant
But we each inhabit
A different pattern of refractions, reflections
Surface upon surface,
The broken fractal
Of the night land, the
Rippled sea sheen, the
Fireworks of the everted
Net of the brain,
Wet with secret secretion
Not unlike the gleaming ropes,
Twisted, tied, tangled
Framed, decorated
Hung, revolving
Of the dream catcher.

Barry Patterson, Wild Ways, Feb 2005.