Midnight
I awaken; wondrous words dancing in my head....Do it now, I think, sifting through the dense
sleepy fog that is my brain. I
know I must fight, they're worth fighting for, and I don't want to lose them,
not this time.......so I fight............
The battle is tough from the beginning. My eyelids, still heavy
with sleep, trying hard not to cooperate. It's a struggle, but somehow I manage to
pry them apart. Feeling
slightly victorious, I lie silent and smug, enveloped in the velvety
blackness, and grin as the scenario plays out in my mind.( Me, meticulously recording the words
made for dreams, into my pretty purple journal.... for the entire world to share.) But wait! What's happening? Already, I'm beginning to drift away. It’s
too soon, ..... I’m not ready....I have to stay awake. "Just do it before it’s
too late! The little
voice in my head cries urgently, don't
let them get way, you've got to share them.... you can’t let them goooooooooo!!"
But the Sandman, ever crafty and vigilant, is irresistible. When he beckons me; I will not win.... "Made only for dreams", he reminds me gently, then with a quick sprinkle, we’re gone. Me, the words.... slip-sliding together into a peaceful oblivion where the words made for dreams are tucked safely away.
But the Sandman, ever crafty and vigilant, is irresistible. When he beckons me; I will not win.... "Made only for dreams", he reminds me gently, then with a quick sprinkle, we’re gone. Me, the words.... slip-sliding together into a peaceful oblivion where the words made for dreams are tucked safely away.
5:30 AM
I don't move, I don't open my eyes, I don't even breathe, for a moment I think I can still salvage them. Feeling exceptionally alert, I’m filled with
a searing desire to remember.....I have to try!!! The words
made for dreams (or the remnants of) are still close; so close I can feel them, ... sweet to the ear, delectable to the tongue, lusciously dreamlike, they need to be
written and shared… I can do this!!! ..........Optimistically
I reach out....my heart pounding with anticipation, last night’s memories still
tickling my brain like tiny feather…so close, excruciatingly close.... then poof,
just like that, they’re gone, whisked away into the misty morning air.....never
to return.....
"It's is my fault", I whisper somberly, to the pretty purple
journal.
She doesn't answer, she doesn't have to; I know she agrees.
.
I often wonder how life would be different if we always remembered our dreams.
ReplyDeleteKeep fighting the good fight!
Tickling your brain like a feather. That is what it is like. So exciting, so frustrating when it slips away.
ReplyDeleteI always wake up after amazingly narrative dreams and they slip away. I love that you have that purple journal waiting for those words if you can capture them. I love the Sandman image!
ReplyDeleteWondrous words, delectable to the tongue are not words that escaped you. This is a battle that writers fight. You caught that frustration.
ReplyDeleteSometimes I think that the angels keep us from remembering. I once read that our dreams are the travels our soul makes to places it needs to go or wants to go while our conscious selves are asleep. I also read that one culture believes that the divet between your nose and lips is from an angel's "shushing" you just before birth so that you don't consciously recall the life plans your soul and the angels made while in the womb--it's revealed to you in life as you are ready. Just find those ideas interesting. :)
ReplyDeleteYou describe the frustration of trying to remember a dream so well....I was there this morning....and poof, my sandman did the same thing as yours. I like how you said feathers tickling your brain...that is so IT...I will use that next time I can't remember a dream. I loved this...thank you. Jackie http://familytrove.blogspot.com/
ReplyDeleteYou beautifully capture that feeling of losing something wondrous just before you are able to wrap words around it. Keep trying! I think you're pretty close to getting those words in that purple journal.
ReplyDeleteI love this idea. There is something so appealing about writing down my dreams and then analyzing them to see if they really mean anything. It is a lot more appealing to me than using the app my kids are using to record what they say at night in their sleep.
ReplyDeleteAren't dreams funny? Your writing here really brings their dreaminess to life! I could read your writing ALL day Darlene! xoxo
ReplyDelete