Notes on a dream scrawled on a sleepless night

your sacred revolver
I found it in my hands

you who are not
a violent man

you who honour the ancestors
with your mother's name

the trickster who placed it there
with the medicine that knows
a gun is only holy
when it can be
and yet is never used

and I wanted to
but I didn't have to
so I never gave it back to you

because all the power
and the answers are in me
and you were joyous just to watch
how I could discover this
for myself

and because you were
I did

with your sacred revolver
in my hands
kinda like a sacred trust

you trusting to trust me
because I did not give it up
nor use it to replace the power
of what I already was

me trusting you
because you didn't ask