Calling Out Dreams

I've often wondered if my non-verbal cerebral palsied son dreams in colors and/or words he can hear clearly but cannot himself see or say, at least not clearly articulated. Yet any sounds and gentle touch we appreciate perhaps too dearly if that is possible with D, my wounded son. So, I was surprised, after twenty years of delighted wonder, and awed last new moon night when he shouted "Hey!" into my ear, about one inch from his mouth in that time of darkest sight While I had been dreaming of stepping out where full moon's light brights a mysterious pilgrimage into mystic, perhaps even mischievous, adventure. My heart sparked as D shouted Hey! miraculously just as I was greeting moon light splayed across our front porch, intending to leave him behind to rest in peace while walking out into Earth's brighter staged sights. My eyes popped open. While D slept peacefully on, without triumphant smile or despondent frown, although perhaps just a hint of his mischievous shy dimple, down toward the front of his right cheek curling open to grace me with a loopy grateful grin shallow but neatly round. Say Hey! together calling out this night's pilgrimage spell swelling day's scavenging bright un-voiced adventures in listening well. Calling out to both Sun and Rain to thank these for their presence and remind them of covenants to remain in perpetual organic balance, co-present presence, not too hot and ultra-violet, not too wet and green moldy degenerate. Calling out in dreams of healthy new moons and wealthy fullness, shout resting in Advent's adventurous adventuring peaceful outback pilgrimage into boundaries of minds in dreaming full-voiced bodies.