Jenny Brown (skywind8) wrote,
Jenny Brown
skywind8

Dreams

The sun shines in my window, fingers of light poking past my blanket and tugging at my eyes. I squint, roll over, bury my face a little farther. Don't have to be up at all, don't want to be up this early. The pillow is cozy, and blankets soft, and I reach for the dreams I wasn't ready to leave yet. Just a few minutes longer. A little more love.

My dreams wrap me in sunlight and sparkling water, speak to me in the fragrance of roses and warm sand beneath my feet. My dreams sing songs of community and blanket me with gentle smiles of intimacy and beautiful friends.

My dreams are worlds I can explore, creative architecture, roads that twist and turn back on themselves, castles of paintings and tapestries. I touch a painting and look into its soul, and the scenery fades in around me as the dragon lifts me gently with his tail. I leave the lamppost behind as adventure calls, and then, adventure completed, I find my way back home, back to the castle to try another painting.

My dreams are sweet and my dreams are sassy, adventure on some days, sword in hand; and on other days, friendships, love, lovers in the grass watching fireflies on midsummer night's eve.

My dreams speak with the rhythms of my heart, the rhythm of fire and passion and whispers in the night. "Did you hear...?" "If only I had..." "Ssshhhh, don't tell anyone, but what I really desire is...."

My dreams speak with the rhythms of my heart, the rhythm of water and skinny dipping and floating, drifting, completely open to the water as it washes, pulses, washes, pulses, against me. "Soften... let go... Just feel..." My skin alive, my body, alive, movement and freedom, weightless, floating.

My dreams speak with the rhythms of my heart, the rhythm of earth and the pounding of the drum, feet dancing together, community together, dance! Come dance! Come dance with us, Jenny, come dance! The drum calls, do you hear? Do you hear it? Off there, in the distance... let's go! Calling, gathering, calling us in. The drum calls, and I smile, I can't help but smile, joy wells up within and I dance. I call a drum to my hands, and my hands call the drum to sing, and the rhythm sinks deep inside me. Music, community.

My dreams speak with the rhythms of my heart, the rhythm of gentle words and warm summer wind, words of love spoken quietly with friends, with lovers. My dreams sing lullabies of trust and belonging, of heroes and healers. My dreams whisper who I am, how I keep going, what I am worth, that I am worthy. My dreams whisper that I am loved and therefore lovable.

My dreams speak to my heart, as they whisper of my sensitive spots, my worries and wounds, the things that scare me, and the places where I feel empty... and my dreams whisper the answers too. My dreams seduce me to open, trust, and listen, and then they sing lullabies of what I need to feel whole. My dreams dare me to admit what I desire, and at least in that simple, symbolic fiction: claim it.


The pillow is cozy, and blankets soft, and I reach for the dreams I wasn't ready to leave yet. Just a few minutes longer. A little more love to feed my hunger and fill my heart.
Tags: dreams, self-tending
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