A Poetic Vibe


“Crazy Horse dreamed and went into the world where there is nothing but the spirits of all things. That is the real world that is behind this one, and everything we see here is something like a shadow from that one.”  ~  Black Elk

“I move from dreamer to dreamer, from dream to dream, hunting for what I need. Slipping and sliding and flickering through the dreams; and the dreamer will wake, and wonder why this dream seemed different, wonder how real their lives can truly be.”  ~  Neil Gaiman

“Don’t be pushed by your problems. Be led by your dreams.”  ~  Ralph Waldo Emerson

I can see the moon through the curtain. The coffee is all long gone. Sometimes on a morning like this it would be easy to make new plans, put away the shopping list, and hide the dirty laundry in the closet. Nope. Not going there today. I’ll stick with the plans. There is always the afternoon. It’s funny how being alone and quiet can be an unhealthy form of hiding, then other times it can be just the right thing, just conforming to some invisible thing. Drink lots of water, sit with the microwave neck wrap in place. No wondering what is going on out there in the world. That is strictly forbidden. Some days are meant for dreaming, both sleeping and waking. Likely that for me. A nap and a dream or two. I can dream of some high altitude mountain vista, or maybe even of a lovely woman who appears unexpectedly and she arrives smiling. I crave an aura of mystery, a poetic vibe. Yet I also find myself craving crackers and cheddar with small slices of pepperoni. Both cravings are doable, and satisfaction will be had. But can I equate the two, beyond the fact that both notions arose from the same mind? Who cares. The connection is that I haven’t the foggiest just exactly why I want the cheese and crackers and sausage, and therein lies the mystery. It might be nice to have a few green olives with that. And pimentos. This is also doable. It’s just that kind of day. The neck wrap is lovely. I got it at Taos herb. It’s kind of a darker eggshell white, with little Aboriginal Dreamtime figures dancing around. I learned just how much warehoused pain is in this neck, the other day during the massage. Treatment will require vigilance and perseverance. I have been fearing that the grimace will become set in stone. It is just an ache, but it is a deep and stubborn ache. That is what this afternoon will be all about. That and the mystery of the woman who arrived smiling. I think I saw her a few days ago. You never know with stuff like this. One treasure in life is that unlike fiction life does not have to make sense. There is really little difference between sleeping and waking dreams. Let’s leave it at that, shall we. It is just about time to go out for a little sunrise gazing.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.


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