The most pleasant of dreams last night and this morning I am lying in bed, watching the crack in the blinds illuminate with the morning sun and thinking. What a pleasant night of sleep, rarely happens anymore, and the thoughts that permeate my mind are lovely, it was a night of rest.
In the dream I am introduced to a man, a news reporter and he starts telling me of what he has covered lately and how he wrote about it. And the words just suddenly appear as he is thinking of them, sort of telepathically speaking, they just materialize or appear on the cover of the notebook and I am so fascinated by this.
Not by the huge piece of construction equipment that is being unveiled for the very first time that we are there to report on, but by how effortlessly this man seems to be communicating his very thoughts to me.
In the next room I hear the parrot rattling her water dish, she is ready to get up and face the new day, I want to linger some more. To lie in my bed and take in what the night has given me, this strange and wonderful gift of time, shared with me in the dark. And then perhaps later on I will write about it, and the words will come to me as if almost floating on gossamer wings and thought is so pure and good.
Perhaps in every writers soul there is a trigger, a place where he yearns to be able to write that one perfect sentence, that juncture in life, where he will chronicle the item, the prose, the short story, that will touch someone in a profound way and make a difference in a life.
I like a good dream, don’t you?
So for a brief moment in time, all of it seems to shut down, everything is absolutely right in my world, I don’t have to deal with some weasel in Austin, Texas, who is lifting stuff from my page, altering it and changing it, then re posting the adulterated crap in MY name and calling it MY opinion. Who then runs and hides behind some vague disclaimer of his own making, believing it will shelter him in the bitter end, when it comes time to pay for the band, make retribution for his sins.
It will not save him.
In this moment I don’t have to mess with the Cable Company or the Insurance payment, there is no cacophony of lawnmowers or barking dogs, on my horizon to disturb my peace of mind, there is only this. This sweet little crazy dream, a message of good news and hope for me in my apparent nocturnal time of need. I am refreshed, I can feel a stirring in my spirit and it is a welcome relief from the pressures of today’s world. I lie in the quiet and I relish the moment. I want to bottle it up and save it for another day.
And it is good.
I am sitting here listening to the radio, and the lady is softly singing to me, enticing me to thoughts impure and surreal. I find myself wondering “If anyone will cry and mourn my passing” when I leave this mortal coil. I know that might sound macabre to a certain extent and I apologize for it, but my passing which is a sure and very real thing, will eventually happen.
Will anyone miss me, will there be tears shed for me and me only?
Like most men, I will someday stand before God, and it is my profound hope that I will be able to pull my tired old hands out of my pockets, smile and say, “Lord I bring nothing. I have used all that you have given me. I have not, one single talent left in my life.” Strange thoughts I seem to run the gauntlet of human emotions early in the morn, as the birds sing and come online to greet the new day.
Taking in a deep breath, I open up one more time and allow life to embrace me. Sleep last night was good and my dreams are of pleasant endeavors. One less thing to worry about in my life, and its a beauty. I am a fortunate pilgrim indeed.
One more trip down the path to the well. And I have come to a point of understanding. Dreams have only one owner at a time. Sorry, but that is a bare-bones fact. This is also why dreamers are so lonely.
And of course, “Life is so dog-gone short, why not give a little something back?”
000
* The photo was gnanked from Radio Girl but I am pretty sure she won’t mind. Do yourself a favor and go over there and check it out, it’s not all that far, and it is definitely worth the trip.
Nice post. And feel free to swipe any pics that you like.
I love this one of the train tracks – there’s a little creek running along the left side of the tracks (at the base of the trees) and when the hot Okanagan sun is beating down, it brings out a real earthy scent and everything smells so foresty and GREEN – you know that smell?
Plus, it’s right behind the golf course and I have found more lost golf balls back there than you can shake a stick at!
Thanks, I took it over to my photoshop and then I cropped it a little (did you notice I changed it hmmmm?) and then brought it back. Reminded me of my old railroading days. We had a line that ran thru Konowa (Kon-OH-Wha) Oklahoma and the trees and the growth was so thick, it was often like running a “green tunnel” in the summertime.
DS
Comment by kelsi — July 7, 2008 @ 12:08 PM
DS,
If you should pass before I do.. I for one would cry very hard,shedding tears and sobbing until my throat would ache. I would struggle to find the words to write a fitting memorial for you on the Alumni Memorial page. I will tell everyone how kind and sweet you are. Your quick wit and that smile that lights up your deep thoughts. How your heart aches for those who suffer. How you were compelled to write daily your thoughts and ideals and share them with the world. I would want all to know, how deeply you love your wife and children. I would tell them how you carry the pain of Viet Nam and losing good men on your shoulders. I some how think that in itself fuels some of your fires.
I would tell them how easy it is to be around you. How much you mean to so many. That is unquestionable. I will tell them that I for one loved your for yourself.It is easy to love you. You are one of a kind!
Got some crazy responses from this one, thank you so much. The rumor’s of my death, have been greatly exaggerated. hahahahaha.
I am still going strong.
DS
Comment by Marilynn — July 8, 2008 @ 3:16 AM