Visions from God

Walking along the edge of the road of a busy side street

A vision was given to me

This is what I saw:

A sky without telephone poles

Nor concrete to obstruct the view

A person showed me a place of green and brown

With purple neon lines traced up from the earth to the sky

Elevators to the heavens

Highway to the stars

I envisioned a narrative one bright day

on the banks of the Lake Erie shore

A world where prisoners were welcome

and faith was restored

As I lay on the sand I dreamt this vision

And this is what I saw:

A man wakes up a sinner

Committed of a crime he committed

All day he looks for shelter

As well as food and clothing

And afraid to call home

He looks for lumber to start a fire

Finds a match and some timber

And sleeps next to burning wood

The next morning he wake startled

A woman walks by and smiles

And offers him a suit made of wool and cotton

Pants that stretch when pulled at his waist

And a shirt composed of squares

The man walks away from the shore

And stumbles thru a dense forest

Where hungry and afraid he walks upon a cabin

Whose door he knocks on for help

A bearded burly man invites him inside

And offers a warm meal with a cup of joe

“You’re welcome to stay here for the night

But you must leave in the morning

You can sleep on the couch downstairs”

As night falls the bearded burly man

Points to a shotgun hanging above a fireplace

“I’m not afraid to use this

And I’m not afraid to leave it here while you sleep’

With that the bearded burly man heads upstairs to bed

While the sinner sleeps afraid but comforted that night

The next morning the bearded burly man

Wakes up the sinner at the rise of the sun

“I cooked you oatmeal with maple and sugar

And coffee to stir your soul”

The sinner eats greedily and asks for me

To which the bearded burly man laughs

“Fill up and then wash in the shower

For this is not your final resting place”

That afternoon the bearded burly man

Drives the sinner to the local town square

Where he introduces the sinner to a coffee house

Which offers the lost man a job

Cleaning dishes for minimum wage

And from there his underground railroad begins

And that is where I forget the rest

Sitting in the backseat of my brother’s car

A story is presented to me by a writer who writes thru me:

The vision is as follows:

A man hitchikes to New York City

Where he meets a music therapist in a psych ward

She takes him to Central Park

Where they sit back to back

And empathize telepathically

They connect their minds and find silence

And soon are living together

And that is as far as I got


As I walked back to my car from the shore of Lake Erie

Lost in the grass on the edge of shallow forest

I felt myself lost in a narrative

Which is as follows:

A caveman walks by himself

Looking for a prey to eat

All is quiet and he looks around him

To his horror he sees a group of hunters and gathers following him

And realizes he has now been made king

All of this I acted out not sure where I was going

But soon knew it would be revealed to me

My first vision was

seen in the bathroom of a psych ward

in New York City

I woke up in my marriage bed

kissed my blonde wife

put on a brown leather coat

and left for the subway

with a guitar in my hand

I sat on the train

and played for the passengers

I spent the day playing

Then came home to my wife

I took off my coat

Then made love

falling asleep in her arms

then i woke up and repeated the previous day

Endless was this repetition

Until I awoke and masturbated in a bathroom stall

And the vision ended.


About Michael Medlen

My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.
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