Dreaming Pathways
In the twilight land between waking and sleeping, I stand at the entrance to the maze of dreaming pathways. What do I find there
?
all my yesterdays, tomorrows, all the moments of my life, what has been, might be, never was, will never be again.
* * *
I follow the path to a pool of soft lamplight, where my father sits waiting. Three years old, white-blond hair still damp from my bath, flannel gown trailing along the floor, I climb into his lap to listen to a bedtime story.
* * *
Another path leads to my bedroom, shades drawn against the white heat of a summer day. I have the measles, and my mother is in the kitchen, making a tray of comfort foods...creamy tomato soup, or maybe chicken noodle, vanilla ice cream, chocolate milk... her hands are soft and cool as she wipes my feverish face with a damp cloth.
* * *
This path I know too. I am sitting in a wooden rocking chair, holding my baby cradled against my breast. A flood of fierce, protective love overwhelms me as I cup the tiny head in my hand.
* * *
The path I follow now is paved with fear and anguish. I run and run and run
...
to something
?
or away from something? I don't know. I seem to have been running forever, my heart bursting within my chest, my breathing labored, as I run into the arms of pain so agonizing I want to die. I wake, screaming silently, shaking, fear of the dream following me into this world. His arms encircle me, his voice soothes and calms me. He holds me until I can sleep again.
* * *
Heels click on the varnished hardwood, heels that add inches to my height, heels thin as the blade of a stilleto, and my long full skirts swirl around my ankles. I dance into the arms of a dark-haired man, a thin filament of gold and luminous pearls around my wrist. I am sixteen, and the world is waiting.
* * *
The path is the center aisle of the church, and the dark haired man who waits at the altar turns to smile into my eyes. I feel none of the anxiety, fear, trepidation of a bride. Love overwhelms me as he reaches out to take my hand, my friend, my love, my world. Joy fills my heart.
* * *
It is snowing, a precious few inches accumulating. The big boys slide down the hill on trash can lids. Daddy is making a wooden sled to pull us up and down the street. Mama makes hot soup and steaming chocolate to warm us. Our cheeks are rosy red with cold, our eyes shining like stars.
* * *
Within this maze of dreaming pathways lie my first love, and my last, my future and my past, my joys and my tears, my hopes and my fears, all that I can imagine and all that I dread. Which pathway will I find tonight? The maze is silent, its paths unmarked. Will I ever reach its secret heart
?
Yes!
This song on this page is:"where or when"
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