Sunday, July 29, 2007

Dreaming of You


You are comfortable here with the fire crackling and your chores done. He is seated in front of the fire relaxing, perhaps he has some port or some whiskey or some apple wine. Somebody knocks on the door. You are startled and are startled anew at the fire. It sparkles and snaps with anticipation. They came! You look at him, would he please get the door?




You are not decent, you are only wearing your underclothes. He is also, but a man in his long underwear can acceptably answer the door. You remove yourself to the back room behind the great stone fireplace. You worry that he'd rather not answer the door and you'd like to have him be most comfortable. Is it the case that all men are most relaxed at home, alone (you don't count, you are a part of him), partly undressed? You worry that the peaceful spell has been broken, and you can't give that back to him.

But they are here! They didn't know if they would make it or not, the trip was long and the children young. The children glow as if they'd just stepped out another door and not traveled for hours. You happily greet them and their parents. The man sports a mustache, still brown. She barely registers, gathering the children, hands on shoulder, presenting them. You and the three children meet eyes, feeling that bond of friendship that almost excludes their mom and dad. You wonder if your old friends know this and if it would bother them. You are unconcerned, you and the children know of the magic you can create together.

You look out the window and see tufts of foam roll in from the ocean, blown up like froth from a lager. At least you think it is that at first, but the puffy drifts gather volume and you realize it has always been snow. You have not heeded the silent outdoors, and the dim grey sky has obscured the falling flakes. You make plans with the children to explore the snow while the other three adults catch up on the city's news. You know he will give them food and drink and he will be gracious and hide his discomfort.

On awakening you ponder the open floor plan around the fireplace, and you fancy the notion that this came from the past. Or could this dream be a story asking to be written? The feeling of contentment mixed with the edge of danger from the elements lingers in your body. You can feel her (you) asking to be remembered, don't forget, invite her into being. These two, did they build this house? Have they reached out to you from the timeless fire and stones to give you a glimpse of their love? You get a glimpse of the core separateness preferred by the man, and the inherent togetherness felt by the woman.

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