I have a reoccurring dream.
In this dream I am in a wooden shack, dusted and old.
I breathe suddenly and deeply regaining consciousness
As though I was in deep thought, yet nothing fills my mind.
I sit up from a creaky old stool to realize my surroundings.
I have been to this place before; my footsteps mark the dirty floor, imprinted in the dust. My attention is drawn to a dirty window as the sound of thunder claps around me.
The sky is vibrant and tormented;
Swirls of white wrestle the grey clouds as lightening runs across the sky in a beautiful Array colors. Then the smell of fresh rain fills my senses.
I leave the shack to enter a barren plain, infinite on all horizons
With the exception of a massive black tree; naked and alone.
I gaze at the sky once more and a cool breeze flows through, filling me completely.
The tree now too begins to breathe deeply the cool winds, large and intensely.
As I walk towards the tree it begins rain.
The rain drops touch me but I am not wet.
The dry dirt drinks the rain as quickly as it falls muddying the soil I am walking on, Though my feet are not muddy. My feet imprint the dirt but the mud does not stay,
Only the wetness of the soil, leaving my feet damp.
I run towards the tree that now bears a single fruit.
I reach for it but sobbingly the tree begs me not to eat its only child.
Disheartened I sit on the ground digging my hands into the dry soil.
Underneath it is dark fertile earth, but like the mud it does not dirty my hands;
It gently falls to the ground. In the holes I have dug water begins to pool from the rain, Clear and pure. I gaze into the pools but see no reflection, only the sky above.
I put my face in these pools and breathe; no water fills my lungs,
Though water fills my ears. I remove my head from the water and hear no sound;
My eyes are closed and all is silent. Slowly the water drains and sound returns,
Thoughts rush my mind and words encourage my tongue; I am awake.