I’ve been having the dreams again. The ones
which have been
interpreted; not by a fortune-teller, or an old
witch, or a seer-mage, but a practical
woman with earnest eyes and an easy smile. My dreams involve
abandonment and loss. Sometimes even
death. I dream of helpless creatures starved to death, wasting
away of hunger and thirst. Perhaps
an old soul I share remembers
locking a helpless animal with trust in its
eyes in a dark cage, and I
am here to repent;
my dreams dwelling on this horrible secret of
a previous life. But recently, my
dreams have
changed. I find the critters, soft bellies, and helpless
eyes, and I wipe off the dust and gravel
caked into their fur. I nourish
them back to health. I’m overcoming
the helplessness of time passing and
I am able to hold it, like a wish. I’m waking up
to a reality
that is finally reflected in
my dreams.