The first thing I hear is the sound of shattered glass

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The first thing I hear is the sound of shattered glass, and I think, “Oh I must have let the crystal goblet fall. How can I be so careless? Each one represents his unique gift to me”
In my bedroom I have them carefully lined up, the ones that contain all my dreams, the red, the white, red and blue, deco pink, they stand in a perfect line and look down upon me where I sleep. When I open my eyes I can no longer see my room, or the floor with the broken pieces of glass from this last dream- inducing liquor that I have just ingested. I am swirling in two colors today, turquoise and green. I love this combination, it is the cocktail of the sea, and of my very essence as a water child. I have only just swallowed it, so am now surprised that it is working so quickly. It seems to me, each journey I take, starts more abruptly and more dramatically. I only see green light and I am becoming the green light, a few shards pierce me deeply, giving me  a sensation of effervescent heat, that begins in my toes and climbs up my body like a relentless vine. I am the vine, green and growing, but instead of being planted I am reaching high towards the sky, my roots dangling loosely in the air like an organic kite tail. I feel a very familiar moving rush of wind, I am flying again.

“…a dark mottled green creature with translucent wings…”

I am on the back or perhaps the head of a dark mottled green creature
with translucent wings, and we are entering a glowing pale green city of magnificent proportions. I think this is the first time I have been astride another living thing moving through the air, as I don’t enjoy flying in general unless I am swept away by the moment only then do I fly. Parts of the city are hidden behind the most beautiful luminescence, a pale shade of the same emerald so radiant, but I look for the turquoise that ran through my magical liquid like a ribbon, then realize suddenly, as a gust of air lifts my full skirt, that I am wearing it. We are traveling through a giant entry-way, and I take a deep breath, I hear his words spoken not at the moment but from before, “Trust it all” and I trust this winged mighty animal does know where it is going, and that it is most certainly where I am to go too.

“…it circles the entire city-scape, so other-worldly…”

Once out of the Hallway that leads to the city, it circles the entire city-scape, so other-worldly in feel, over the trees, buildings, sidewalks, then it dips over a lake and climbs.
I instinctively reach down and try to find something to hold on to, and touch its smooth velvety covering, like a fine Damascus. The part I touch gently grabs my hand to sustain me, and I feel part of it now, not just a passenger precariously perched on top. I move with it like an appendage, the feeling is almost impossible to describe, even now, but I remember for a minute I too was winged and not bound to earth or under the tyranny of gravity’s law.

“Our moment is over, and so is our flight…”

Our moment is over and so is our flight and my winged transport stops on a very high ledge, where I know it is time to disembark. My feet once more grounded, but the air is sweet with flowers and  tinkling sounds of bells and strange bird calls, I have never before heard. I walk a few steps and am confronted with multiple stairways, one after another as if reflections in a mirror of each other. There is no sign nor vocal urging from him, but of course I know I am expected to choose one and take it up to where it leads me. Perhaps this says much about me, that I choose the stairway positioned in the middle of them all and begin to ascend. The breeze catches my skirt and the coins on the hem jingle and ting..ting.

Then I hear his voice clearly for the first time in this green world, “Come to the top my dear”

 Then I hear his voice clearly for the first time in this  green world,
“Come to the top of the stairs my dear.” I run up at least three flights effortlessly, as if I were floating over them, my skirt coins keeping rhythm to my steps. I find I am barefooted again, and can not remember if he told me to not put on my shoes, or perhaps I lost them on my flight. I am getting that confused feeling that sometimes overtakes me, no doubt the unwanted effects of the tinted liquids that I choose to take over and over again.

Precarious but mesmerizing in shades of emerald flowing into turquoise

Precarious but mesmerizing in shades of emerald flowing into turquoise, the building of polished metal, and the patterns and lines begin to make me almost dizzy. The blending of the green into the turquoise, brings a deep nostalgia for things too far back to remember.
I know that these experiments in color in some way take their toll. I have now become so sensitive to shades and hues, my heart can feel it is being wrenched out of my body when I see them. There is not one experience in the colored dreams where my tears do not cover my face at some point and always when I return.

“…there is a narrow ledge, and nowhere to go but down.

When I reach the top I see there is a narrow ledge and no where to go but down. I wait for him to say something, anything, as I am feeling unsure of where I am supposed to go, and how, but he does speak to me again. His voice is from behind me as he says,
“Don’t turn around dear. I am here. Look down and when you feel ready… fly”
He says it so casually, that my fear vanishes for a second. I am afraid of heights, and I never trust that I will really fly even in dreams. This is the second time, I find myself up on the top of high places, being asked to throw myself literally into the wind.
“Please I am not ready. I’m afraid. I am so afraid.”
I hear myself pleading like a child. I feel a pressure on my shoulders, and I know he is behind me and he is about to push me over. He reads my thoughts so easily
“Yes I am. We will go together. Tell me when you are ready.”
If I thought about it one second longer, I would say I will never be ready, but I say, “Now!”

He stretches my arms out under his own and pushes me over the edge

He stretches my arms out under his own and pushes me over the edge. Just when I feel so sure of myself, so graceful and yes capable, he let’s go and all the grace of my flight turns into awkward terrified  falling.

With arms flailing and legs kicking I plummet down

With arms flailing and legs kicking I plummet down, and my heart is filled with both fear and feelings that he just betrayed and tricked me. His voice is still close,
“Don’t fight it dear and you will float down. Your skirt is your parachute”

My skirt opens, and like a strange air born seed I slowly rotate down

My skirt opens, and like a strange air born seed I slowly rotate downwards. My eyes look back up towards him.Although he is not visible, to me he is always perceivable, and he hovers at the exact point he let me go. I feel relief, sadness, confusion, but in the end I feel his smile kiss me on the cheek, and the slow descent to the water below, changes into a experience both exhilarating and pleasant.

I weigh nothing and sometimes I turn upside down in my gradual descent

 I weigh nothing and sometimes I turn upside down in my gradual descent. I am filled with  joy, and the deepest admiration and love for the one who is always with me, even when he lets me go. I should by now trust him empirically, but there is always that ungraceful moment of doubt. I can’t seem to rid myself totally of it. I wonder if that is even possible?

I have come all the way, and anticipate the chill of the cold water lake

I have come all the way, and anticipate the chill of the cold water lake. I hear his voice in my head, “So next time I say Fly, you won’t be afraid?”
“I won’t. I promise” and then I hit the water in one giant splash.

The water is warm and comforting, not cold at all as I splash down

The water is warm and comforting, not cold at all as I splash down.

I sink down to the very bottom and keep my eyes open

I sink down to the very bottom and keep my eyes open. If it were up to me, I would swim and do nothing else for the rest of my sojourn.

I float tranquilly wondering, if the dream will reveal more

I float tranquilly wondering if the dream will perhaps reveal more, or if this is what I came for, to fall once again and find out I am still alive.  I believe in the end, every dream is all about trust.

My clothes dry instantly in the sunny breeze

My clothes dry instantly in the sun-lit breeze,and even my hair begins to blow  dry, but I do have a sense of urgency as the premonition of an important meeting invades me. I pick up my step, which is being slowed by the thick tangle of some strange plants that seem to have overgrown the entire path. He speaks to me again,
“If you feel like you want to pray, just do it. Someone is trying to talk to you”
“What?” I ask confused.

No sooner do I hear his words I feel I am in a great presence

No sooner do I hear his words, I feel I am in a great presence. I don’t usually drop to my knees and yet I find that is what I am doing. There is a beam of light and it charges the air with sounds of whistling,rustling leaves, mourning doves, even very muffled voices, but one voice, that of a young woman is the one I can almost hear.

“Karima! Karima! It’s me. Do you hear me?”

Karima! Karima! It’s me. Do you hear me?” I hear her voice now clearly as she repeats it many times. I look ahead of me and see a figure, a young woman it appears, she is trapped behind a glass, and all glows in the brightest shade of yellow- green and makes it impossible to see her clearly, but I really want to. I feel I want to run to her, but I know it would not help me see her. It’s hard for me to watch her pound on the glass, and I feel her sadness. I wish I knew how to help her.

I close my eyes and I speak to her in my thoughts

I close my eyes and I speak to her in my thoughts, I say to her
“Everything will be fine. I will help you. I just need to know what I can do”
“What do you want me to do for you”

“Just talk to me. Say my name”

“Just talk to me. Say my name”
But I don’t know her name, even though I see a small name tag floating over her head, she is too far away and all is too unfocused on her side to be able to read it. I say, “I’m sorry I don’t know who you are. I am from another world, not this one, and I am not sure how to communicate with you.” Please forgive me if I don’t say your name. I don’t know it” I watch her pound on the glass and feel the vibration of her pounding, oh it makes me want to cry and I open my eyes and beg him to take me out of here, as quickly as possible. How difficult to know someone needs you, and yet you are not able to help them.

“I open my eyes…”

I open my eyes,”Take me out of here please, I beg of you.” “Wake me!” Wake me!”
I am crying, I am immobile, in the reeds and the palms rustle, and I just want to leave. But the one who guides me, who talks to me and tells me it is okay, instead of coming personally, sends another to take me back. “I don’t care. I really don’t care. Take me home” I sob

It rises out of the ground underneath me and lifts me up..

It rises out of the ground underneath me and lifts me up, like a giant fallen branch that comes to life and sprouts wings. I place my hands like before and it once again holds me tight. I am part of this creature, and it will take me home.

It hovers in front of clear walls of scarab beetles preserved in death

It hovers in front of clear walls of scarab beetles, preserved in death. These will never resurrect and I am flooded with images of mummies, wrapped and preserved, who will also never resurrect. I begin to sob again and beg the winged creature to take me far away from all these symbols, and  cries of frustration, and strangers who beg me to say their name. It moves us away and takes me for one last pass over the city before it heads towards the mountains in the distance.

“Take me away, I’ve seen too much”

“Take me away, I’ve seen too much” I chant to him through my tears, and then I lash out too at the one who always when I need him most, is never by my side. I  start to think his caring, his tutelage, his protection are not real and not done in love, but some ulterior motive. I am not sure why he is with me. Maybe he has been paid to be, and this thought begins to break my heart.

My heart breaks atop a flying insect in a a strange land

My heart breaks atop a flying insect in a strange land. As if it senses my grief, it flies over scenes of peace now and beauty, far away from the Beetle walls, the turquoise flight tower, the crying green girl. My heart pounds in my chest, faster and faster.

It climbs higher and higher and my tears touch the clouds

The creature climbs higher and higher and my tears touch the clouds. The cold wind dries them into diamonds and they fall off my face and travel miles down to the ground. His voice speaks into my ear, his warmth warms my frozen face,
“Your heart breaks and you scatter diamonds”
“What?” I ask, still in the claws of a deep grief, and I am not even sure why
“I will only take you on one more colored journey. There is only one more.”

“I failed you in some way, didn’t I?”

“I failed you in some way, didn’t I?” I know I have. You tire of these journeys, and you tire of me.” I have tried my best, really I have,” and once again, I burst into tears,  sitting on the back of a flying insect, looking down over the most beautiful lands of  waterfalls, pools of serenity and hidden nooks of peace. I am incapable of stopping my own mournfulness. No wonder he has given up on me. Two years, and I am still the way I am. I am not any better than when he started with me.

“Look down. Are you immune to beauty?”

“Look down. Are you immune to beauty?”
I look down, and I take in several  deep breaths, that fill my heart and make it more resilient. I open my eyes, and I see how beautiful this land is.
“Do you not know that you are beautiful too?”
I hesitate to answer, I just want to listen.

“You must know your last journey is a great reward, not a punishment”

“You must know, your last journey will be a great reward, not a punishment, and you must know you are beautiful, because you are, as beautiful and natural as the land we fly over now. It is not that you have failed, but now I know where we will go on your last colored dream. I promise I will be close. You have done so well. Trust me please..just a little more.”

“Please stay with me as I go home”

“Please stay with me as I go home”
I feel the liquor waning,and I am returning quickly.
“I am here,” he says.
“What color is the last liquid, the last dream?”
“It starts off as orange… and then it changes a little at the end.. Be patient.”
As quickly as this turquoise and green dream came on, it leaves, and as we burst through the colored cloud-bank, I see through the other side, that I am now awake and back in my own bed.

to be continued…

*please see my comment

Karima Hoisan
April 23, 2011
Misty Shores, Linc Island SL