running blind while coming for you

I'm running blind and my daughter
sees God
As a comedian who is not threatened
by a good joke.
And I am laughing at my daughter's
ability to make God blush,
While consumed by wolves who scream
for my soul's execution;
Yet, these two hands
are breaking jaws and gathering dreams,
In the north country, away from where the
wind blows, on my love, walking her dog,
On a rocky beach, less than three skips away
from the end of life's rainbow.
But she is part of another novella,
cut short from me without a period or semi-colon
So I continue to hope in this dark cell
for those faded, nuclear explosions, called stars.
I pray they will send down some angels strapped
to a pair of roaming buffalos,
For I am still young and wild
whistling a melody for the dream catcher.
And it's funny how clearly God's voice
echoes when I am most wasted and wounded
Humbled, homeless filling up my prison cell
with truth and defecation.
And you should know this, snake charmer,
it's the way we coil in heat, recoil in the chill
Of glassy, slippery eyes.
You see, it was all brought back to me
With my daughter's prayer,
thanking God for her bad dreams.
And that points to an exclamation, sleepy seducer.
We can do something
No God or gods could ever do;
good or bad.
We can dream, my love,
we can move in our dreams.
So, I wanted you to know that,
because I'm coming for you.