Let us not try to question.
Or at least ask directly; the things which borders between the line of our conscious and subconscious.
Mud stains that splatter like washed underwear carried into the wind.
Lion roars that banter like empty vessels beat into the rhythm.
Last night something happened,
To all of us, whether awake or sleep in sound.
Our inner gods and inner goddesses,
Whether Medusa or Winter,
They stepped out into bright night
and conversed, or rather spitted out gold
as their words needed no reply and were coated in the finest terracotta.
They spoke in awe and with greatest remarks, giving life meaning,
leaving us with a shine.
They put the shine in.