No, this is not turning in to another dream journal, I just want to make sure I remember the cool ones. If you don’t like these, I am sure I will be back to my esoteric musings soon.
I am in the most amazing buffet ever. Perfectly grilled steaks, lobster tail, beautiful sushi of every flavor abound. Every fruit and vegetable I have ever seen and then some I haven’t too. My plate is overflowing with pasta, meats and sushi, I am in heaven.The giant room, filled with people at tables and in the lines for more food, is alive with sounds; laughter, conservations and the clinking of silverware on china. There are glowing candlelit sconces on the walls and on every table there is a candle centerpiece. The floor is covered with a rich burgundy carpet that is accented with golden crowns laid out in a tile-like pattern.
I sit my plate down on a table not far from the buffet. There was only one place setting open at the table, and I knew it was mine. I can smell hot, fresh breads coming out of the ovens and I walk quickly to the line waiting for the breads, rolls and muffins. I see the roll I want and my mouth waters. It is very large, round, cooked to a golden brown and someone has just laid a round of sweet butter on its steaming crown.
And then it is gone. A woman in the line has grabbed it with tongs and off it goes. My world crashes down around me. Lost is the thrill of the buffet, gone are the thoughts of the food I was about to gobble up and the happiness I felt just seeing the foods. Like a fire pit with out flame or a flower that is shriveled on the vine, I am empty.
I woke up there, it was about 3AM this morning. I sat up in bed, looked at the time and smiled that it was still dark outside. The bedroom was filled with a soft orange glow from the salt lamp. I fell back asleep then.
I am a tall, older black man in a jungle. I carry in my arms a small boy, he is listless and his eyes are barely open. I continue to talk to him, asking him questions, his name, where he is from, where he was going. He doesn’t answer me, just lays there in my arms, whispering something I can’t make out.
I know that the only thing I can do is to get him into cold water. I need to lower his body temperature and soon. I make my way over the underbrush to a swiftly flowing river. The water is crystal clear, I can see the bottom of the river. It is green and lush on the riverbed. The water is ice cold.
It flows from a mountain top down here, to the floor of the valley where the jungle covered and hid it from the sun.
I lay the boy down on the smooth river rocks and dig out a shallow trench. I want to make a bath tub in the ground and let some of the water flow over him, I know this will heal him. After the tub has been dug out I pull him in to the opening in the ground and then I dig out a small ditch to get the water in to the tub with him.
I look up then, through the green leaves into the sunlight and pray that he will recover.
I don’t know what they mean, or if they mean anything at all; but there they are. If they mean anything to you, let me know.
Light and Love,
Matt
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