I don´t know when the dreams made me dangerous <br />But they did <br />And I remember many things which may or may not have happened <br />An old man´s face peering <br />Down at me over the rail of my cot <br />A queue of people <br />In a sky alive with light <br />My mother´s breast on my lips <br />While I swallowed <br />The pale glow from the window at the back of the room <br />Like a mirror from another world <br />Where philosophers sit <br />And warriors learn their wars <br />And scientists their language quirks. <br />Once I asked Socrates if he could <br />Relate the one law that governed all the rest <br />And he said <br />“Sometimes, my boy, it´s good to scream.”<br /><br />Milton Johanides<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/childhood-dreams-4/
