Dreams Dreamt

Eyes open.
I find myself in water, cool, but not chilling.
I have no memory, no recollection.
The water begins to flow, ripples dancing around my body.
Light reflects, splaying impossible colors upon the cliffs' walls.
Walls that tower higher than the heavens.

A river otter floats in the water next to me. Playful and mischievous, luring me down the stream.
I follow like a salmon swimming to its birthplace.
A chase I give, intrigued, though I know I won't catch it.
I know I can't catch it.

But the otter is not my torment.
I am but a dog after a car.
Nothing could be done were I to catch it.

The otter disappears without warning, and I am confused.

The waves swell giving distinction of the ocean, heavy with breath and power, exercising it's force of will, hiding the world behind it's waves.
Yet there is no violence to this sea. It is too deep and too old to waste such emotion on a lost soul.

The waves bring me a ship instead. Refuge for the displaced.

The ship, forged of rumors whispered, houses a crew in search of land.
The ship takes us close and the shores beckon like sirens sing.
The sweet sound of waves upon the shore, beacon to a weary soul, promise an end to the swells of an unpredictable sea.
But upon swimming, only sharp rocks and scars are received.

I climb back aboard the ship and the sweet smell of incense lightens my soul.
Once again, colors float through air, and the taste of music is about.
As we sail, we drift towards fog and, though we cannot see around, the water is still.

We find ourselves a secret grotto within which bonds grow before we attempt another journey.

I find that from my hands, emotions flow forth.
Designs displaying beauty, snake about the ship.
Yet, the color, the sound, the taste that leaves my hands to be displayed pains me.

As I look out at the sea I know that I must, again, leave the ship; a haven, not a home.

Once again, the otter, my silent friend looks back at me from the water, beckoning to greater things.
I jump from the edge, into the water, plunging deep into the darkness. But there is no foreboding, no creeping. Just the dark.

Finally, I take a breath, ready to feel the water rush into my lungs, only to find I never made it into water.

Standing up, I find that I am on a island.
There is grass, cool and soft, caressing my skin as I lay back.
Slowly the fog clears.

A beautiful sound emanates from a fissure in a large rock. Curious, I stride towards it.
The sound appeals to me more than any other sound, and as I reach the rock I notice two eyes staring back at me.
They are deep and beautiful, calming and understanding.
They belong to a silhouette of a person that I do not know, yet somehow do.

I follow within the fissure, at which we happen upon a mirror.
Standing side by side with these eyes, this silhouette, and this music I feel peace.
My reflection shows a me I'd rather be.

The mirror shows myself now moving differently as I do, and my reflection and the silhouette turn and leave, the eyes close and darkness falls.
A crack between my feet opens and I fall down into the abyss. The walls of the cliffs, sharp as knives cut my sides as I fall.

And I am in a river once again, and the otter is once again at my side leading me to the ocean.

I awake deep in the calming fog, breathing in the sweet smell of flowers and incense, calming my tattered soul.
But now memories flood my mind, and I eat to try and find comfort.
My world changes before my eyes, I feel no pain as beauty flies from my fingertips, yet this is not real.
Shapes bloom forth and twist and twirl as though a glass blower were working in symphony, while deep droning bass notes beat a rhythm within my heart.

Figures from my past rise up: a Maenad, innocently twirling the bones of a conquest. An angel, lost yet divine. And a saint, who lives up to the name.

My bruised body stumbles forward, tripping upon rough ground; only able to be picked up by the angel and guided to the saint.
Yet I ignore them, for I am intrigued by this Maenad, a figure sweet and innocent.
But I find that a Maenad feigns love, to sacrifice the heart of their victim for own twisted pleasure.

I scream, as my rib cage is torn open and my heart is removed, ripped from the body. I collapse face first onto the floor, but find that I have instead landed upon the otter's body, saving my head from hitting sharp rocks. I black out.

I awake as I am pulled from the water, not remembering why I lie face down in the ocean.
When thrown onto my back, I find myself once again upon the ship, with it's crew around a small fire.
We sit, enjoying the calm within the fog. I feel empty within, and I wonder if it's all been a dream, or perhaps it was real, or just a manifestation of something I don't understand.

A happy dog wanders to my side and lays it's head against my torso.
Warmth from a body that I haven't felt, creeping like the warmth of a hard drink as it slides down your throat.
Perhaps, it was a dream. I can still feel. The dog stays a long time and when he finally walks away I am saddened, but I understand that the dog was never mine really, but a friendly companion that I wouldn't forget.

A smile appears, fleeting, but present nonetheless.

Our ship sails ever forward, through storms and sun.
Though we keep near the shore, and seek refuge in fog when we find it.
We are lost, drifting near the same places we have been before, though they never look the same.
Our crew disappears without warning, yet we find them again in the waters near the fog, cold and tired, seeking sanctuary.
On some nights, the world can still be seen clearer than the purest waters from heaven.
There are razor sharp cliffs, black as hell with a cold stream flowing forth.
Beautiful steely eyes, reflecting what I believe I understand.
Sirens singing from shore, as the waves crash upon hard stones.
And an otter that appears, always to show me back to the sea.

One day perhaps, this ship will find a harbor. For now it wanders the foggy ocean, providing for those lost within it's waters a solid place to stand, even if it isn't land.