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Dec 2018
a light that beams…

This must be a dream. I assume I’m fast asleep elsewhere, but can’t bother to care to find out exactly where that may be, since all my focus and curious thought are centered here, in this moment I am minding. I feel that this is most definitely a dream, yet as vivid this lucid sleep may be, I have a wakeful awareness, conscious of what this all may mean—although unreal.
Verdant greens, rapacious reds, metallic cobalt blues and sharp cold whites, eggshell and city winter skies. Each color I knew in my existence, reintroduced with a new sense of discovering their more flamboyant shades, their other worldly patina, some explosive or fluorescent. I’ve never seen such colors and with more emotions to witness them, and I know full well that in our dreams, it seems that feelings speak—the only language our minds translate, lacking logic and reason, and still understood. Mind-speaking with heart...

I awe at the surroundings of astral nebulae and cosmic bodies spacial walls that wave and wink with stars and eyes or both or all.
I’m being lead in warp speed worm holes and tunnels of levitation and light, pulled by a hand I’m holding, aware now that I’m not alone here, in this dream I accept it to be, but who is dreaming with me?
I turn my attention to that hand, the connecting arm, and the rest of whom I look down to see, if only with the blind eyes that my human limitation allows. I smile with my whole face discovering a young child cherub beaming back at me, with eyes reflecting the stars and twilight shades of space… there is such depth in those large windows of the soul, knowledge and wisdom and enlightenment, beyond my mortal coil. My unevolved homunculi of spirit, full of conditioned fears and judgmental faults, a prehistoric presence in the light years of our civilization. I feel a yearning to ask “where are…?”
Shhhzzzz…lightning then thunder…. Pull back awake…
(Life is but a dream)
Just embrace it all with wonder. A light that beams.
In the morning I will wake. Breathe anew, ethereally, the lovely other space, where I feel at home, in place. Swimming in god’s Other face, a bright ocean of perfection’s grace. And peace...
Butch Decatoria
Written by
Butch Decatoria  45/M/Las Vegas, Nevada, USA
(45/M/Las Vegas, Nevada, USA)   
635
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