another poem, another series

Hey guys, I wrote a series of six poems called "Dreams of the magi." Here's the final poem. Let me know if you want more.

dreams of the magi: empty glass


when their
dreams
had exhausted, their journey near
finished, the wise
men stopped at a tiny village
and held ceremony together
with a bottle of wine.
the three drank and remembered
they had vowed not to
learn another’s names.

when the glass emptied, the third
magi stood and spoke.

“I am tired of this.
only, no, I am tired
of having to be this; I want
to have dreams unburdened,
my friends. I would
like
to be a small child myself,
to be that savior that
only must live, and if living,
dream, and if dreaming,
simply imagine a world that
could be and to not care
if it
comes, if it goes. brothers,
I do not know your names. if you
were to leave, to pass, wander again
in different ways, it would be
all the same.
no one is born to fulfill a responsibility,
yet we have devoured the desert,
tramped the dunes, come to this establishment,
drank the wine. what of
that? who will sing now, and happily?

I had a dream last night where I saw myself
in this very moment breaking a glass.”

his empty wine glass was a lover; daunting yet
sophisticated.
he clutched it close to his face and
began to sob.