Dreams

Pablo Picasso, The Dream (1932)

As they lowered my coffin
Someone coughed, not from grief,
But from dust kicked up in the wind.
I am not responsible.
This is not my dream.

I rode the elevator down
Deep into the earth where
They hid the missiles
And experimented with death.
Freely I walked naked
Into the room with the green walls
Because this was my dream
And naked I have power
To change everything.

I rise higher
Sometimes above treetops
At night and with the breeze
I flow and watch the earth below
I never want to descend
Because this is my dream.

Someday I will be placed
Into a chamber of fire
And reduced to ash
Later to be scattered
In desert or sea
This is my dream
When the dreams end.