Dreaming of a Violin

Random poem I just wrote based on a dream I had in London, Summer 2012)
The violin struck.
A soft warm pitch.
Like wine on the tongue.

Laughter. Sighs of delight.

But something was amiss.

No. A stirring in my heart.
Something is wrong.
That note is too long.
It's from a bad source.

Stop!

The young couple didn't hear.
Too lost in the music.
Lost in each other.

I felt sick.

In came the older ones.
The mom and dad,
Full of wisdom.

She caressed my shoulder.
"It's okay, don't worry,"
Her slithering, patronizing words.

A snake.

I could almost see it, about to strike.

How is everyone so blind?

Old and young,
Young and old,
Pay attention to the story told.

Do not seek the sound of this age.
Do not let complacency win the battle for your mind.
Do not let yourself be blind.

Look to heaven.
The Throne room.

Rejoice.
Be saved.