I wonder if we live under a dome?

Rain on the window pane
it pours and nurtures
it remains natural in its essence
yet filled with toxins from planes
blasting pain onto it inhabitants
a poor excuse from savages


The average symptom
floods their mental
common sense as dull as a pencil
if only they really used their utensil
will they be free to roam
or locked away within their home
I wonder if we live under a dome?


Better yet why we feel alone
after six feet apart
separated us all from connection
just to stare in a mirror
only to see masked mannequin
be cast away in home spaces


We yearn for community
but follow rules from policies
as if you didn't have common sense
to life the veil from your eye
uncovering the mask from your brain
stand up for yourself
remember your power
light the lantern in your temple


Not the ones in church building
but the one within you
screaming for recognition
Did I mention you are a dimension
projected into this existence?


How about the rain showers?
It feeds the soil of gardens
it breaks down what is hardened
but the plane in the skies
spray pain as if its spring in July


Summer missing it's footing
Wondering, "why am I out of alignment?"
switching seasons
like it's a homework assignment


Hot rising to a cold dawn
heavy rain then snow falls
breaking the weather machine
with a crowbar
yelling and cawing like a crow call


When did we get here?
the pits of hell
became a wishing well
journeying uncharted terrains
until the dishes fell


What am I saying?
sounds like I'm telling a joke
but I'm not playing
it's just my observation
observing opinions
oscillating outside occupations
as if I'm a hospital patient


The waiting room waiting
mental health scrams
from breathing in too much
of our own oxygen fumes
a deadly whisper from
anger switching to a hot temper
as if there was a switch
turning summer into winter


Sitting still harboring pain
while supplementing snacks for dinner
curfew at 11
stores reopen at 7
7 seals, 7 dimensions
7 scars, 7 stitches
7 calls, several missing
awakening after a fall
rising from hell to ascension
life's mission feels like a superstition
with premonitions
channeling through intuition
now one question remains
Is the cosmos swimming with the fishes?