Saturday, January 7, 2017

Once I saw a dream; a face I haven't seen in decades, centuries - in this dream, this face was a young girl; so young her peels and bones were fondled in fields she had long yet to unearth. Her eyes saw this familiar face, but a sight like no other - a dream that painted blues of steel, blues of dark. Another dream I had, were of the same girl; the warriors of her world had grown on guns and befit neck-slitting clashes. This one painted canary and tuscan can. And another one; three souls at youth sat still, untroubled, in an airy, age-old mobile with who they knew of as a doctor, a driver, a teacher, a laugher, a grower. Russet, sepla, wood; this one was more than a dream.

Dreams are continued thoughts you have during the day; they are your fantasies, the realities you wish to be; your soulmates in reflection; your greeters in ups and downs of merriness and morose; dreams are signs of something - just look out, wide open, and you will see them as they are. Often times in my dreams I walk as if I walk on grounds of Earth, as if my heart beats the same pulses, my skin feels the same sensations. Dreams are signs of something; have you come to greet us? To leave us a message or two? Have you come in the shape of fire, or a mystical dragon that breathes it? Were you the figure who left unspoken, with buttons of dandelions and clouds of oranges? Have you been lingering in reveries, sleeping in safe surrounds, breathing in peace? Will we catch a glimpse of you again? Will we reconnect in the upside down, the up above, the heavenly unknowns?