The Night Runs In Fear Of The Dreamer Poem by Mark Heathcote

The night runs in fear of the dreamer
as for him, there is no night.
For even though there is darkness in abundance
He only needs to close his eyes to see there is light
God deems all darkness to be made light
Such is why ebony skies are singularly bright
brightly dotted with orbs so bright.
For the dreamer's hope, is a candlewick?
That stretches from here to eternity
all he but do is ignite its vaporous spirit.
And be guided by its flickering fight
for he that adjourns in his own shadow
will have nowhere to go when he spurns
what the daylight; can no longer follow.
God made a scented garden and gave all men
their seven senses that we follow in his trail.
So that even if one or more senses are lost
the spirit of the lamb would still be
guided by god's external light within.