When The Day Comes Creeping In

When the day comes creeping in
The Big Bear stands on hind legs
Clawing at the Moon,

Night dreams melt away
Into the phantasmagoria of the real:
A cat,
A human face,
Red numbers on a clock that speaks
Of Famine, War, Pestilence, and Death,

There is no denying the coming Light
Even when eyes are forced shut
To return to the night visions,
Longing for the comfort
Of those celestial visitors
Who must leave with the darkness,

When the day comes creeping in
It brings with it
The trappings of consciousness,
A vague reality
Veiled in the clouds
Of a perceived existence,
Shadowed by ghosts of lost souls,

The Big Bear finally lies down
In green pastures,
Entwined and trapped in vines,
Hibernating through the winter night
Dreaming of chasing the Moon
Until the day comes creeping in.