Late night, not sleeping
Awake, thoughts keeping
My head from finding rest
In bed’s embracing nest,
Ev’n though my pillow’s soft
In midnight’s quiet loft.

So, lotus sitting, chanting OM…
I let my Self begin to roam.
Recalling that it’s been said,
That astral beings, blithe or dread,
Will come support your karmic need
Whether healing – or to make you bleed.

Imagine if I give the call,
To find if Earthly body’s all?
I beckoned karmic guide appear.
Then flames leapt high, I saw them clear,
Spinning brightly on the floor
Throwing wide proscribèd door.

A fearsome mage,
Red-robed with rage,
A flaming sword above its head,
“I’ve come for you,” is what it said.
“I must not go,” I said to start.
“For it would break my family’s heart!”

“That’s but illusion,” it averred
Dismissing me with awful word,
It moved to take my Self away
While sought I argument to let me stay.
“If all’s illusion,” said I, with a bow,
“Then another time’s as good as now.”

The figure paused.
Hesitation caused
By my words, or by the night
I never knew which one was right.
It turned and went to leave
When gratefully, I grabbed its sleeve.

“Thank you,” was all I said
It glanced at me, eyes flaming red
“Make good your time, enjoy your peace
For next time I will not cease.
Go now, and live your life
Amidst its joys, its toil, and strife.”

I woke, heart pounding, eyes full of grit.

’Twas but a dream! I thought … wasn’t it?