Those Jung folks say:
You are the house
when you dream of a house
and in my dreams
the house is made of wood
and every floor down
has another beneath it
where I find many things
with cabinets and cupboards
of things long ago discovered
The windows are open
the curtains are lace
and a fine ritual bucket
reaches to the water
and there is water
fresh and pure
there is water
and I am sure

Just out of sight
a troll is laughing
a deep troll belly laugh
as he rounds the bend
just up the river
from the mountains to
the east
I had better make
some cookies fast
He's going to want a feast
Trolls like jokes
and so do I
Trolls eat their cookies
in the blink of an eye


--XineAnn