Zimbabwe

I sleep and dream about the superficial and personal, thus pleasing drivel as you must know, one cannot pay attention and be worried so unduly and with care inside the soul where all the world is now in view Its' an omnipotent that God should have appointed. At present it's Zimbabwe, country of the blacks where genocide has taken hold and stayed. What else is new they say, it's just a habit that keeps recurring and there is no need to worry. I only dream about the one thing that keeps waking and shaking me, when soggy with the sweats of white knight nights recurs in colour, three dimensions, when a Jack Russell sat beside his murdered master so full of grief and mortal wounding to his heart. How can we stand and look due East where things are quiet and if you can, I know that dog will not, when hostile bullets struck his master and he died it killed his spirit and his heart and loyal soul.