dream 1979

[creativesoul]

in that log cabin where i could see the snow thru the roof-up in the loft- warmer there- reading baba ram dass-i had a dream- it seemed to be in the future- the lake was full to it s edges- brimming over into my soul-i watched in the dream many people- running, the earth crumbing from the weight of the sky scrapers- the fear on people s faces- and then the long walk home after helping many laying in rows on the broken pavement-but i knew the way

the switch happened and i was an older woman with young babies at my little log cabin in a place that seemed like times that had gone by- a wood burning stove- a wash basin
my hair was long and gray- i was glowing with happiness- there were people coming- we had to be ready-these people were strangers to us
people that we somehow had a closeness to- and ceremony


then i was a younger woman and my children were small- and i was alone= and a guy with a laugh took me to the water- and i felt things i never felt before

then a man took me on a journey inside- showed me the colors of my soul- talked to me- held mirrors up to the sun and feathers
then the shattering
the breaking of my face and the teeth
the smoke the smoke and the cords from times past laced and woven in my skin
salt purifiied these things ripping them from me
that eye that vast sky that taught me to fly with wings i didnt know i had
foot prints one after the other
walking in the hot sun dripping sweat
the body runs the soul
the soul runs the body
then the tightening of the muscles
kissing the interior of the jungle
the masks and the dances of nigeria fast and furious the slave trade of nigeria. the pain in my foot and leg
endless waters--the sunlight piercing and spinning feathers and smoke- darkness= that face- that face i coud never see
that reflection on the river
the edges ever widening
flying over a red tile roof
something ended there
on that island

that woman always prodding and knocking on all my doors
never satisfied--she leaps into my lap like a cat=demanding my attention
knocking whatever is on my mind to the floor
we is more important than me... i keep asking her questions but i dont like the answers and i cannot stop asking the questions she never lies to me although she clearly has her own perspective=can never disagree because she will knock even louder and will never go away- abandoned by this strange world a childlike innocence is betrayed by retailed and marketed and sold
but she never gives in- she sticks to the bigger picture
the man looks down from the sky on a larger than life wave surfing the universe- the italian man says 'what are you doing?"before laughing and telling me the world is made of money someday you will see
nooo the world has nice people, that want to help ..............................................................................................................he laughs and drives way with a fancy car with my teenage children

the contracts, vows and promises of love are laying there in the grass under the trees where the woman is wise and eating an apple which carries no bitterness- crisp and delicate- she dreams of sons........................................................ and marble statues and spaghetti on the piazza s warm and sunlit frescos of jesus and allah and bombs and the gaza and all of syria and china and iran= look at my friend as she says in that hippie way all about the beaches of Goa and the retreat of primal therapy where that nun was screaming that she was still a virgin and that moment where all the naked men walk around.... the various body types and regions of pleasure are displayed but she cannot do what she always wanted to do- love was chasing a dragon, a dollar ....a wave-
a job, another woman other than her..., she sat and licked her lips and thought of that freedom that held her in its arms in the embrace of what was to come- in the tavern, he thought of less of her than what she wanted ....... she had to say to the earth-' it is you i have commited to- these spirits and this way'
she shouted 'oh please let me go home'-where the buffalo and the geese and the chickens and the 16 cats once lived- and it was all about feed and seeing the bigger picture= before the woman called 'rotten' or that house in portland-or that felon or the way things are dominated ....................................................the things that could have been-those that were driven ambitious and wanted only to create were tortured by frieght and oil and meat
burning chicken in the air and chinese toys- plastic bottles filled with smoothies and no reason to believe that these things meant anything at all- the healers and dealers and wu wu girls and watson and all the electric conversations that waved good bye when they said that these things were not as important as say they were-pretty women sleeping with medicine men and all i can say is- 'it is not of my business'- see that the lies i tell myself are what prevents me from seeing
and i wake up in my room- one of many= and it is time to start all over again- times when i was afraid to sleep because i didnt want to 'see' that way- that these things were important-

the coffee the cigarettes the old furniture
they beckon to me like the softness of a mother
land where the energy is real and the people surreal