in another dimension

in another dimension

Three wooden doors faced me

and they said,

“It could be you

or it might be me.”

What, 

wait,

you don’t see

or is it that you don’t believe?

Wasn’t it The Wizard of Oz

that contained 

talking trees?

It seems like all we do

is dream,

but there’s a difference

between what’s in my head

and reality,

a prisoner to thought,

how about the possibility

that the crazy homeless man across the street

acting out his fantasy

is closer to free 

then we'll ever be.


Thursday,

the fourth day of my work week,

moved to California to see

if I could drive this demon out of my mind

through writing,

They came to him in private

and asked,

“Why couldn’t we?”

“Because you have so little faith.”

“How much do we need?”

“The size of a mustard seed.”

We were all once 16,

our world vast as eternity,

in the backyard of my childhood home

I started digging,

one, two, three years of work,

but then the rain started pouring;

effort covered up 

with the floods of doubt,

times test to separate 

the wheat from the chaff.

But,

what’s Biblical allegory 

got to do with it

when all that’s on TV is Kim Kardashian

on my screen?

Frost came to two roads,

Jesus spoke of two gates,

a divergence to see

that they mentioned two

when I see three? 

I knew a mechanic

who worked on machinery,

he knew the riddle to the world,

solved its problems with

a wrench, a cigarette, 

and a little time to think,

but at 16 

I still saw people for what they could be;

I came to him

holding a dream,

“Put that away.”

“Why?” I asked.

He sighed, “It hurt me.”

I opened the middle door

where inside blank disbelieving eyes 

spilled out coaxing me in,

I told them I couldn’t 

and that they had to go back in,

I looked to the right door

and opened it to see

the comforting black sorrow I once knew,

the mechanic stood in the darkness of mind

at the workbench of his life

squeezing what was left of his heart in a vise.

Ash coming from his mouth 

he asked, 

“Should I pour a drink for two?”

With fear 

I looked to the one door 

that I had left,

I opened it and heard no song,

but saw the white light of consciousness 

between time and space,

time on a linear line 

and a man surrounded by the works 

of his future. 

He said,

“What, 

wait, 

you still don’t see?”

Dan Parks