I hear the gentle beating of mighty wings.
i know Dream can mean nothing. Dream can mean everything. Dream can mean what you formulate. Dream can be so discombobulated you can't piece him together.
last night Dream, or Bronson in this case, said, "It takes the wind out of your sails" to which I replied, "or wind forces me back so far I give up." I never saw him, only heard him. The sound of wind or maybe rushing water, wings perhaps, I don't know. Then he said, "Up. Up is good. I never knew up until now. Try up, it's nice here."
I thought he meant Death. Something I wouldn't expect him to say, or me to think. It's not an option either would choose. I said, "So I need Death." There was silence and then I heard the beating of mighty wings.
Then I heard, "Death doesn't take you up. Wings. Wings take you up. You have to see it. Backward, forward, it doesn't matter. You'll get there."
And this morning ... it all sounds good I suppose. But this reverse travel, or sideways, whatever it is simply wears me out. It's not working. Or is it?
It's just Dream. Read about him in Preludes and Nocturnes last night. Dream usually knows what he's talking about.
I have found the solace I sought, though not in the way I imagined. ... And I hear it. The sound of wings.
i know Dream can mean nothing. Dream can mean everything. Dream can mean what you formulate. Dream can be so discombobulated you can't piece him together.
last night Dream, or Bronson in this case, said, "It takes the wind out of your sails" to which I replied, "or wind forces me back so far I give up." I never saw him, only heard him. The sound of wind or maybe rushing water, wings perhaps, I don't know. Then he said, "Up. Up is good. I never knew up until now. Try up, it's nice here."
I thought he meant Death. Something I wouldn't expect him to say, or me to think. It's not an option either would choose. I said, "So I need Death." There was silence and then I heard the beating of mighty wings.
Then I heard, "Death doesn't take you up. Wings. Wings take you up. You have to see it. Backward, forward, it doesn't matter. You'll get there."
And this morning ... it all sounds good I suppose. But this reverse travel, or sideways, whatever it is simply wears me out. It's not working. Or is it?
It's just Dream. Read about him in Preludes and Nocturnes last night. Dream usually knows what he's talking about.
I have found the solace I sought, though not in the way I imagined. ... And I hear it. The sound of wings.