dreams
11 times already this evening I have thought about my dream. So, 11 times I have been taken back there. It is not unpleasurable being back there, nor entirely quieting.
Yesterday, in the fog of flu, awake for only 4 hours across the whole day, I dreamt that I had four butterflies. They landed - as they will, these flutter by’s – near me; unannounced and unsummoned, they landed on some fruit that I had not paid for and had not grown. Once settled, they remained. Still, like paintings; shimmering like a dream. And at the end of the day, unmoved, I moved toward them expecting them to arise and flutter by. But they did not. They remained. I lifted the fruit, and still they stayed.
On my way home I held the fruit on my lap; the bus could plainly see. And soon I was approached by a posse of men in local dress. And they were offering me money for my fruit and its cargo of butterflies. They offered me a hundred. Then two. Speechless, they offered me five. As I stepped onto the curb I heard one man call out; I will give you a thousand, my friend, and my youngest daughter.
At home, showered and changed, the fruit shelved and safe above my books. My mother approached, all kisses and hugs. Tired, and embarrassed by her caresses I blurted out about my prize. Forlorn with exasperation, she demanded I show her; demanded too, that I be quick – and quiet – so as to not worry my father. From my room I fetched them; still unmoved from upon the fruit, my little shimmies lay: wings folded like half full moons. One blue. One black. One White. The last, coloured like a setting sun.
My mother gasped as she saw them. From across the room; she had to sit down.
I hurried and fetched sweet mint tea.
Recovered, she exclaimed that I truly am a lucky boy; that I brought good fortune upon the house; that I would never want and would always provide. She threw her arms around me; kissed me and thanked God for her good fortune.
This went on, and went on, and went on some more. And I learnt absolutely nothing about why these pretties had landed near me or why they had allowed me to pick them up and had chosen to stay with me. And nothing at all about how, in doing so, God and smiled upon us: this house, my family
We ate. My father was still out. Mother remained quiet in front of my brother and sisters. But she could barely swallow her food for all the smiling she was doing. We prayed before and after our meal.
Because it was the weekend I had planned to visit with friends that night; had planned to catch up on the news of the area. I had hoped to catch up on the moods of the girls that I had my eye on. But on my way out, mother called to me to ensure that I had had the butterflies secured somewhere. I told her that they were safe; that were secured inside my room. She said that this was insufficient; that I must re-house them somewhere safer. Knowing mother, I knew it pointless to argue with her and so I spent the next half hour – and more – finding, and then rejecting places to store them. After exhausting too many minutes I was happy that mother would be happy about where I would finally leave them.
They hadn’t moved by the way, hadn’t budged at all from the moment I first laid eyes on them.
Interlude. Please fill this section with anything you like.. Basically, I wrote the above after a couple of beers whilst Heidi was doing her parents evening thing and then she came home and I had to eat pizza. The ending, below, was already formed. But, as is so often the case, I hadn’t quite worked out how to get from the beginning to the end. Anyway….
That night, in bed, almost asleep and dreaming, I heard whispers from the bookshelves and switched on the light to hear them. There, smiling down on me were not four butterflies but one shimmering face.
The face of a woman. She was whispering to me and I could only just hear. She said:
You are a pebble in a shallow but fast moving stream
Feel the water wash over you.
You are being cleansed
But worn away also
And then she was gone. I thought about her words as I fell into sleep. And the butterflies returned and this time they flew. The rose up as one, and departed as one.
I never did discover why they had come, or why they had stayed. And no one ever told me why, in their coming, I had been blessed. But as I slept, I felt calm. And in my sleep I could feel a joy.
Calmness and Joyessness is indeed a blessing.
Yesterday, in the fog of flu, awake for only 4 hours across the whole day, I dreamt that I had four butterflies. They landed - as they will, these flutter by’s – near me; unannounced and unsummoned, they landed on some fruit that I had not paid for and had not grown. Once settled, they remained. Still, like paintings; shimmering like a dream. And at the end of the day, unmoved, I moved toward them expecting them to arise and flutter by. But they did not. They remained. I lifted the fruit, and still they stayed.
On my way home I held the fruit on my lap; the bus could plainly see. And soon I was approached by a posse of men in local dress. And they were offering me money for my fruit and its cargo of butterflies. They offered me a hundred. Then two. Speechless, they offered me five. As I stepped onto the curb I heard one man call out; I will give you a thousand, my friend, and my youngest daughter.
At home, showered and changed, the fruit shelved and safe above my books. My mother approached, all kisses and hugs. Tired, and embarrassed by her caresses I blurted out about my prize. Forlorn with exasperation, she demanded I show her; demanded too, that I be quick – and quiet – so as to not worry my father. From my room I fetched them; still unmoved from upon the fruit, my little shimmies lay: wings folded like half full moons. One blue. One black. One White. The last, coloured like a setting sun.
My mother gasped as she saw them. From across the room; she had to sit down.
I hurried and fetched sweet mint tea.
Recovered, she exclaimed that I truly am a lucky boy; that I brought good fortune upon the house; that I would never want and would always provide. She threw her arms around me; kissed me and thanked God for her good fortune.
This went on, and went on, and went on some more. And I learnt absolutely nothing about why these pretties had landed near me or why they had allowed me to pick them up and had chosen to stay with me. And nothing at all about how, in doing so, God and smiled upon us: this house, my family
We ate. My father was still out. Mother remained quiet in front of my brother and sisters. But she could barely swallow her food for all the smiling she was doing. We prayed before and after our meal.
Because it was the weekend I had planned to visit with friends that night; had planned to catch up on the news of the area. I had hoped to catch up on the moods of the girls that I had my eye on. But on my way out, mother called to me to ensure that I had had the butterflies secured somewhere. I told her that they were safe; that were secured inside my room. She said that this was insufficient; that I must re-house them somewhere safer. Knowing mother, I knew it pointless to argue with her and so I spent the next half hour – and more – finding, and then rejecting places to store them. After exhausting too many minutes I was happy that mother would be happy about where I would finally leave them.
They hadn’t moved by the way, hadn’t budged at all from the moment I first laid eyes on them.
Interlude. Please fill this section with anything you like.. Basically, I wrote the above after a couple of beers whilst Heidi was doing her parents evening thing and then she came home and I had to eat pizza. The ending, below, was already formed. But, as is so often the case, I hadn’t quite worked out how to get from the beginning to the end. Anyway….
That night, in bed, almost asleep and dreaming, I heard whispers from the bookshelves and switched on the light to hear them. There, smiling down on me were not four butterflies but one shimmering face.
The face of a woman. She was whispering to me and I could only just hear. She said:
You are a pebble in a shallow but fast moving stream
Feel the water wash over you.
You are being cleansed
But worn away also
And then she was gone. I thought about her words as I fell into sleep. And the butterflies returned and this time they flew. The rose up as one, and departed as one.
I never did discover why they had come, or why they had stayed. And no one ever told me why, in their coming, I had been blessed. But as I slept, I felt calm. And in my sleep I could feel a joy.
Calmness and Joyessness is indeed a blessing.
posted by Tim Heidi Arthur Kofi X at 6:21 am
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