How do I know when I’m dreaming of God-
Is it when I see the world from above-
Each country border never showing
Even favorite states are only known by remembered landmarks-
Ocean waves lapping coasts – White clouds covering both land and view
I’m unsure if it’s when I dream of faces I do not know-
They come to me – in a glimpse I see their hurt or happiness-
Crevassed faces – or white polished smiles of beautiful people-
Angry shocking images not belonging to me
Then I dream of a child playing in a field- having found a grasshopper-
The child’s siblings run through the tall grass calling to catch them-
Sunlight bounces from their hair and all the grass and all the everything I can see-
I ask my son to dream of God.
I do this often as I rock him to sleep – telling him God is the best thing to dream of-
That I know some – but not enough-
I ask God to help him sleep well – I ask God to show himself to him-
So he might know him – that even if he asks in a dream that it’s more than I can give-
Though I give my heart – My thoughts – My true self-
If I cannot understand when I dream of God-
I am not so full of me to not realize I’m not enough
Our shadow wishes that if only we had known. It watched as we were told not to tell. Then we forgot even the spinning of the tale. When we accidentally recall we are stopped in our trust and forced to remember. Walls crumble and our loved ones now are fake and we feel no remorse.
Pushing the head back wasn’t enough. We had to use more. Telling of another who would have ruined you. The steeple was high. Remember the rocks near the water? We do. The rocks didn’t stop at the water’s edge. The entire fire pond was full of them.
If we think hard enough to swallow our words
Could we never eat our thoughts again
And if we didn’t need to eat them at all
Would we have ever known any thoughts to have created our words
Our ears then become silenced and we muffle our cry because that too is gone
Now we’re alone in the blackness and we wave our hands in front of our face – nothing.