Monday, April 25, 2011
While Dreams And Whistles Waft
I don't live close to train tracks, but there are precognitive winds blowing and I now hear train whistles morning and night announcing movement and change. I have been dreaming in the thin hours before dawn of awakenings; of a childhood friend held in suspended animation inside a clothes bag, hanging in a basement for one year, who suddenly unzipped the bag and walked out; of a lidless, ramshackle coffin sitting on a workbench, again in a basement, with the corpse of a man too big for its confines who began talking to me as I passed him by. He had decided it was time to get back to the business of living life. So he did.
And so, it seems, must I.
Stress has been stupefying. Words and wishes have been lost. Health, the first and only true wealth, has ridden the rails towards calamity. It's time to listen deeply to what my soul would choose if all possibilities lay shining at my feet.
In the movement and the changes to come, in the awakenings that bring me back to life, I will find the only true thing I have been missing while dreams and whistles waft~ the animating force of myself.