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Author's note: This poem was written within moments of my finishing the pencil drawing "Dream Mists"...

Dream Mists

...for my dreams

It waits... Starless night, damp cold winds... A hint of something waiting, watching deep in the darkness... Faint movement - swirling, slowly swirling mists covering all, moving if as possessed of an Alien cold mind... Hints of forms, misty shapes half-seen, then gone... Here a twisted branch, there a blasted stump-- The dimly glowing mists swirl, spiral, coalesce... A reptilian flow, sinuous, coldly aware - The one beyond dreams and time looks back through its chilling eyes of glowing mist, the razor claws and teeth poised to tear and shred that which only dream mists can touch-- the living soul... A baleful knowing glare, awareness; cold, alien watchfulness freezing me where I stand; chilling mists swirling around me, encompassing me and the reptilian watcher... linked, one... Slowly, it dissolves back into the mists from which it formed - `till all that remains are the cold mists... But - It is still there, still watching... waiting April 4, 1995

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