Five Prophecies for the New Year

I
You will wake up from a click here dream of a black wing brushing your chest.
You will find your heart has been broken.
You will never be lonely again.

II
The Old King will become drunk and lose the T.V. remote control.
The house will be destroyed in the search.
His mind will be destroyed by images filling the blank screen.
He will be recognized and redeemed at last.

III
You will finally learn to make love to plants.
Kissing succulent petals,
Singing the surging juice song,
    Leaf to loin,
    Vein to vine,
    Bark to Breast.
Following tides deeper than the ocean's rich currents,
    Pulled by the moon,
You will return to the womb waters.
You will remember surprising things.
You will blossom at last.

IV
Bitter, mean spirited politicians will be gently taken by the hand.
They will be cradled and soothed.
They will make pinch pots in reeducation camps,
    Take naps,
    Enjoy graham crackers and milk.
Old wounds will smile,
Then become tight lipped,
And finally fade
leaving no trace.
They will then become carpenters:
    Stroking wood,
    Bending nails,
    Flattening thumbs.
Day care workers:
    Changing diapers,
    Telling stories,
    Wiping noses.
They will become tortured artists,
    Waking up in the middle of the night,
    Weeping
    Over the terrible beauty
    Of this fractured world.

V
We will all sigh a great sigh of relief.
We will all begin a journey to lands unknown.
We will all leave without packing a thing.