I dream in faraway slumbers, teasing the edges of memory and imagination with wisps of possibility.
The outside is still, but unearth that sleeping seed and you will see the lace-like design of a mind tied fast to a brilliant dress, a fabricated wing, each stitch a path to unknowns and never-knowns and waiting-to-be-knowns.
Can you smell the forest for the trees?
The leaves are single details, yes, but one without another and another and another couldn’t carpet the earth in the royalty and crisp details of remembrances. One without the other, memory without the living to make it so bittersweet, death without the life that gave it first chair, sultry nights without the promise of frosted mornings.
Where would we be?
Dreams without the waking, walking without pause, and swimming without an every-so-often float, face up toward the pinpoint end of the universe.
The rain needs the sun to burst color; the mountain needs the valley to be tall; the deer needs height to have sure feet; the flowers need the meeting of sky’s bounty and earth’s warm palm to bloom.
The numbers without colors, the science without a bursting flame, chemicals with no deep purple reaction, shy hormones with no cheeks to blush.
What would happen?
An endless night or an endless day?
Roads go ever on and on?
It must go somewhere…
Dreams are nothing if not echoes of what we soul-search during waking hours. What we see behind the veil of mist and flesh. You know it’s there, behind the wind. You can feel it when the sun wraps your arms in golden gloves. You can taste it after the April showers, stepping outside with a laugh, suddenly surprised at what you find on the tip of your tongue.
Because we go unseen. We pass through places, through the windows of people, through open gestures and empty doors, and we wander and wander and wander, our feet pulling towards what end, we can’t guess.
But we try. We dream. We mend. We paint. We sew. We weave. We write. We sing. We dance. We calculate. We plant. We teach. We drive. We build. We confirm. We promise. We floss. We brush. We stain. We wash. We watch. We turn. We cook. We bake. We roast. We fish. We run. We ride. We draft. We design. We sketch. We cut. We weep. We giggle. We eat. We drink. We hug. We kiss. We develop. We hope.
We wrestle. We curse. We writhe. We grieve. We groan. We tear. We wear. We lie. We steal. We trip. We fall. We cheat. We break. We confess. We deny. We turn. And turn. And turn. We lose. We’re lost. We yell. We cry. We choke. We despair.
We are everything and all things in one moment, always trying to make this make sense.
We are the people.
And we are free.
Did you open your eyes?
P.S. We’d love to know your thoughts, so please be sure to comment below. Each of our commenters will be entered in a drawing for our current FREE book giveaway, Mothers & Daughters: Mending a Strained Relationship by author Teena Stewart.
Lakin Easterling is a wife, mother, writer, and avid reader. She spends her days chasing her toddler, Belle, and conversing with the elderly who are afflicted by Alzheimer’s disease or Dementia. She loves surprise coffee dates with her husband Luke, texting novels to her best friend, Laura Hyers, and being a college student. She dreams about being brave enough to get a tattoo, and believes in the healing power of a good cup of coffee. Her favorite nail polish is Sail Away by Milani. She blogs at http://threadingsymphonies.wordpress.com.
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