Dreams

by Caleb Alamo

A man is falling through the clouds.

The wind whistles in his ears like wailing spirits

Prophesying his inevitable end.

Their cries are deafening.

This new silence sounds like an incessant siren;

Reminding him of what will always come.

It’s a descent made by the innocent,

those caught up in thoughts of infinite disaster.

He isn’t sure when this began.

He’s troubled by the fall.

He often longs for softened ground to land on,

But the whirring wind won’t let this end.

Filled with fears he cannot yet remember,

He shrugs off the air and suddenly slams on hard dirt.

Awake, his heart misses a beat.

The adrenaline pumps.

Startled, sat upright in bed he clutches his chest.

He has fallen from the sky again.