Perspective

Were it not for the wind
Were it not for the clouds
Were it not for the timing of the storm
As it beat against the window
Breaking the seal

Light flickering freely
in the darkening room
Catching the side view
of the dream that danced
about the ceiling of my mind

As the tiny bat flew in, frightened,
then perching behind the valance
only to be shewed out by a creature
One hundred times its size
waving a fire poker as if crazed.

Were it not for this,
the meek would be feared.

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