I See Brahma's Dreams

I see Brahma's dreams,
endless seas on high.
So immense they stretch
infinite like the Milky Way.
He breathes the cosmic serpent,
creation lengthens in time.
Years are counted as beads,
wind scattered like sand.
Dare I hope to see my fate,
the circle loops on back again.
As I fall into its stream,
eternity rests as endless tide.
Must fall further before I wake,
drown in its seasoned waters.
Farther I go, there is no escape.
Till dawn comes—Awake!

Carl Wade Thompson is a poet and the graduate writing tutor at Texas Wesleyan University. His work has appeared in The Mayo Review, The Concho River Review, The Galway Review, Eunoia Review, Sheepshead Review, Blue Minaret, Cenizo, The Blue Collar Review, Cross Timbers, Anak Sastra, Pikers Press, Doll House Literary Journal, One in Four, and Labor: Studies in Working-Class History of the Americas.

Find more by Carl Wade Thompson in the Author Index.