I dreamed the language of poetry during the night. Beautiful words of expression, chords played with longing and hope coming alive, letting me walk within each word and note. The reality of this dream state is my home. Immersed in this freedom, I never want to awaken. I fight the fleeting moments when consciousness prevails, taking me back to a world where the dimensions lock me down once more. Fully awake I still remember my true existence.
Act 2:17-21
‘And it shall come to pass in the last days, says God,
That I will pour out of My Spirit on all flesh;
Your sons and your daughters shall prophesy,
Your young men shall see visions,
Your old men shall dream dreams.
And on My menservants and on My maidservants
I will pour out My Spirit in those days;
And they shall prophesy.
I will show wonders in heaven above
And signs in the earth beneath:
Blood and fire and vapor of smoke.
The sun shall be turned into darkness,
And the moon into blood,
Before the coming of the great and awesome day of the Lord.
And it shall come to pass
That whoever calls on the name of the Lord
Shall be saved.’