The Visitation

There was this tiny, untapped part of my brain,
and one strange night as I lay dreaming, as I
lay fetal and curled and afraid (of the fury of
the woman whose guinea pigs I had allowed
to escape into my nightmare's muddy yard)
a visitor appeared--some sort of angel on
a mission, I believe, to open an unused door
(padlocked, dark) that existed in my head.

She was dressed in a gown of transcendent gold,
a billowing swirl that looked like dawn and was
sewn of insights that explained not a thing
but helped me to see that a life without answers
was fine, just fine. As I lay sleeping on the bed I
had made and unmade for so many years...so many
love affairs, mattress pads and streams of tears–I
watched my guest as she waltzed her way past
my horde of midnight tidal waves, rotten teeth
and forgotten high school locker combinations.
I observed her as she knelt inside my brain, flung
the door wide, allowed a flock of birds to burst
from within what had been a most terrible absence
of light and sky. She wove a spell, and the nightmares
dissolved into a Sunday morning revelation featuring
my beloved singing in the kitchen, and the jingle
of clean spoons being tossed into the universal
wisdom of our incredibly amazing utensil drawer.

Comments

[Jill]

Are you kidding me? The teeth AND school locker thing, too?! I can't tell you how many times I hurried down supposedly familiar hallways, trying to find my locker...all while frantically trying to remember my combination, grab the right books and make it to class before the bell rang! The rest of your dream sounds quite lovely, though....
I love to read your thoughts....thanks again for the journey!

[Jeff]

Until I can have one of those dreams myself ("a life without answers was fine, just fine"), I'm going to use yours. Thanks for sharing this. Great work.

[linda]

so wonderful.