About 3:00 AM,
I wrote to someone here
on waking
from a dream
of waking-- into a death
of darkness and dread
A nuclear winter's night
without the hope
of light or heat again
We fumbled to be in each other's arms
beneath the quilt and blanket
to weave our warmth
for this last time
trying to comfort
Waiting for that moment
of knowing by the silence...
of the other’s breath
who would truly be
alone
and the last….
_
In the dream, something had gone terribly wrong worldwide, with origins of the problem out-of-sight on the moon? Dreams do not make the best of sense, but I’ve had variations of this one multiple times.
Nuclear winter is the hypothesis that suggests the sun could be totally obscured for years by the ash of global nuclear war or debris from a massive volcanic eruption. It could also be caused by an asteroid striking the earth.
Those on the coast would be wiped out first. Those inland would experience the poem above.
Consciousness of being utterly alone is the most horrifying state my soul can conjure, and I believe we were not meant to ever be that way. We will always seek the other— the one whose image we bare.
“For now we see in a glass darkly-- but then face to face…I will know even as I am known.” —James
On waking, shaken, I reached for my phone, knowing someone, somewhere is always awake here on HP. To the person who answered, thank you— though I know you did not really understand. Your living presence was a comfort. I stayed awake till the sky turned first-light gray.