Last Night I Dreamed About A Saint Poem by Paul Amrod

Last Night I Dreamed About A Saint



Two scores ago in the annals of history
is written a tragic and heartrending story
which transposed my younger life with sorrow.
Through a wondrous selfless manner and his manifestation
of a dangerous and life threatening situation
his teenage dreams left this Earth toward the hallowed.
The seraph greeted his arrival with salutations
for his gracious means of giving of himself so generously.
Freed from the bounds of today and tomorrow
resting amongst his heavenly inhabitants.
A talented artist with a sentimental marrow
was heralded for his self-relinquishment
by assisting other youth to play and wallow
and to further their existence auspiciously.
Last night I dreamed about this saint
who was a gentle savior of poorer people.
As the fires burned fiercely he moved without restraint.
He calmed his colleagues with phrases regal
and suggested to crawl carefully and expeditiously
toward the stairwell upward away from the lethal
blue smokes and the ominous feelings of constraint.
In my visions within my dream he wasn't feeble.
He visited me with a message pleading reverently
for the absolution of his friends and closest family.
I felt urged to communicate with a voice congenial
as he sang in harmonies with a host of angels.
The melody described the glorious emancipation
of his spirit as he painted his portrayal
which reflected his mission of complete self-denial.
Last night I dreamed about this saint.
He stood amongst the raging flames
projecting his total incorruptibility.
Hence the forthright approach and his goodly aims.
Released from the banal everyday responsibility
he prophesied his philosophy with phrases to proclaim
his inheritance of what the Nicene's monks did claim.
'There is no greater love than to give your life for others'
Given the opportunity to replenish and to recover
this experience he witnessed the monk's profound sobriety
as he unfurled his newly-given wings to hover
above wishing to assist our unsovereign society.
Seeing from his lofty nest in his celestial abode
how our values and virtues collapse and erode
he bitterly implores for us all to become brothers.
Hoping for the higher beings to gracefully intercede
offering assistance with sensitive gestures to usher
in an era of collaboration to ultimately succeed
the troublesome relapse we have been bestowed.
Conducting a realm of radiant voices he brings propriety
to a pinnacle with the waving of his musical wand.
Reiterating harmonics with the usage of the Lydian mode
he emulates his beauty of which we can respond.
Last night I dreamed about a saint and Damon was his name.
He stood amongst the flames. I wished his soul Godspeed.
Leaving me with the coming of the twilight and dawn
I was inspired through his music to correspond.
This night was a transfiguration through an ode
which sadly brought me joy as a miracle was spawned.

Monday, October 24, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: remembrance,tragedy
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Paul Amrod

Paul Amrod

Chateaugay, New York
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