Dream Fragment 1
Sometimes I think of myself as the girl with a thousand eyes, seeing the world through kaleidoscope vision, or fragments of multiple lenses — legal, ethical, religious, somatic, political, personal. And so, in the effort to say more of “all that unsayable life,” I will share broken pieces of dreams, impressions, and memories on this blog too. Here’s number one.
A shattered world, shot through with light, the edges burn, and I catch my reflection. On fresh cut grass, knuckles pressed in the ground, I tilt back my head, lips parted, and feel the sun on my skin. A spinning top, like the eye of a star, pierces the sky: the future is whirling. In moments like these, I surrender — Kali, Krishna, Rumi, the Unknown, the Unsaid, the Unheard. I shake your names from my mane. Where they fall, flowers sprout. Maybe I pray to you. Maybe I draw my arms near my chest, and hide from you. Maybe I call my grandfather and tell him to bless me. Maybe I see a flicker in the cathedral. And maybe I notice the yellow leaf fall and think: there you are. Tat tvam asi. You are that. In the days my lover held me, it was true the population had increased.