A Dream

 A Bomb

 

Last night, I dreamed

I was in a big, old church.

Some of my friends were there

from different times,

my highschool friend,

my friend when the kids were little,

others I can’t remember now.

 

Then I overheard a woman

say she was going to blow up the place.

She was thin, had dark hair and brown complexion.

She wore a red shirt,

which looked like there could be a bomb there.

I told the pastor. I said there’s, “A woman…”

And he blurted, “Running around naked!”

 

He thought he was being funny.

I looked at him, disgusted.

“She has a bomb.”

“Are you sure?”

“No, but I overheard her.”

I described her,

including the red shirt.

 

He said, “I’ll check into it.”

I was walking around nervously scanning the crowd.

I saw the woman change into a green shirt.

I saw the bomb strapped to her

and the control switch in her hand.

I started running

and telling everyone to run.

 

I saw the pastor and told him that

I was sure that she had a bomb.

I forgot to tell him she now wore a green shirt.

I woke up.

My mind was still trying to sort it out.

Should I be relieved that the bomb didn’t go off?

But if it did go off, I would have been proved right.

 

It’s kind of a Jonah situation.

He told everyone there’d be destruction,

knowing that if they’d repent

and God would have mercy,

he would look like a fool.

Better to be a thought a fool

if it means lives saved.