Saturday, January 3, 2015

Dive Deep for Dreams.


I dreamt last night of men diving into a lake to recover shining, shimmering skipping stones.

It was nighttime, and the water lapped quietly as they slipped out of sight into the deep blue sky speckled with stars. They were quiet, like they'd worked dream recovery a million times, just as pearl divers retrieve pricelessness with a casual familiarity.

Then I dreamt of a wedding banquet (not mine) that was put on for show. The guests and gift were there because they were supposed to be, and not out of celebration. But much as in life, we often do things as we're expected to.
Then I dreamt of a Cathedral with fine relief sculptures, and beneath them was the name of the man who had created them, and the name of the man who explained why they were created.

Then I dreamt of working hard in a field. It was blistering hot and there was hay everywhere, but I was side-by-side with good friends, and we were laughing like it was just another day together. I collapsed on the ground to take a rest and looked at my swollen feet from standing all day in the heat. And I found myself thinking, "And I have to stand all tonight, too, when I'm at the altar getting married! But that's okay. I'll make it." I shouted as much over my shoulder to the man I was meant to marry - but I didn't see him.

Recovered dreams.

They make you remember there's something out there for you.

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