Two Dreams I Fell Into, and Then Out, and Another

…And apparently this post appeared in the night and then had fallen right off the blog by the morning…

Tuesday afternoon. Memorable it was to breathe into the sweet center of that flower on my way to continue the rest of my walk today… Maybe I will learn what kind of flower it is tomorrow…Tomorrow came, the group member replies, ”A rose…”

My dreams that began: (these are real ones from Tues., 10/12; I see this is a great writing prompt idea for your own remembered dreams):

  1. A woman in a long fitted Easter-like solid white dress replies to a person in the distance I can’t see, and she’s saying to them, “Yeah, but at least the TV’s not on.”
  2. The circus music plays outside the great inflatable tent and I never liked the circus, so I walk the other way that I believe to be toward home…

🎪😴

Those were my dream beginnings.

10/9 Saturday Night’s Dream

I dreamed I saw a bright little yellow canary very sprightly, cheerful, and awake yet with a hint of drowsiness, and I saw he was sitting next to May, and she noticed I was looking toward them, as if saying hi to me. I said to her, “You didn’t actually have to leave him behind! [like written of in Dream Flowers on your travels to a new home.] And May said to me, “Oh, no, he’s here with me, and he sings, he sings…a lot!” 😊☺️

We both smiled almost laughing with the amusement, and it seemed as if the bird paused with us a moment too.

“When the world tore my heart with its evil and littleness, my bird sang and made me forget the ugliness of folly and think of the beauty of every thing splendid.”

—May Ziadeh

My tears may appear and then I may find them in a poem—You know who, Lord Byron…and I also love the tranquility of Chopin’s Nocturne No. 2 and Waltz No. 7 in the dark, on the floor upon the zabuton and zafu pillow…after this, tomorrow, I will save some silence for a new poem (someday), paint my canvas with new sketch, take the silence into a yoga pose held for strength, and then savasana…and now sleep.😴

*

Previously: Looking into the Forest with a Teacup and Saucer, and Reading Lord Byron Beneath a Shady Pine Tree

3 comments

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s