Laid to rest,
There is always a low pitch hum
In the vacant hole of a dream.
It’s the Amber hum,
For life is electric.
And the waiting time of sleep
Helps everyone peep at the soul.
There is a clunk to the dawn,
That the wishful dread.
It signals the birth of silent light.
It carries a sentence of years,
Like the closeness of the coffin,
It marks time for eternity.
If you are able
Skip whilst you are wake.
Your wavelength
Is beyond measure.
You are a long time moving.
You are an electron in motion.
Burn through life
And be well spent.
Dreams are extinct in death.
You are ultimately terminal
Forever in your final stillness.
C2019 Christopher Thompson
