Lions Had this when I moved into current house. A rather small house on the corner of a dead end street with a knee-high pole mesh fence. No other houses just one. Long grass on the opposite side of the street where I presumed houses should be. And in the grass lions sitting, waiting. Not aggressive just sitting waiting in the long grass. The house dark and light blue with hints of vibrant red on the window skirting. I remember walking up to the front porch that resembles the door at my uncles. Looking at the two panes of glass in the window, smoky glass on the top section of the window in the door and clear on the bottom. Thinking to myself, the lions can easily get through the bottom glass because it looks too flimsy. Walking into the house and realizing that although the house looked old from the outside that it was actually a new house. Fibreboard on the floor the grains quite large. My dream flashed, and I found myself holding the paw of a lion admiring it�s huge paw, holding it, supporting it with my left hand and gently caressing the top with my right, how soft it felt and thinking how graceful the lion would look when it walked. Nothing else, not the lions face, teeth, claws just its paw. Lion Psychological Meaning Lions are usually a regal dream symbol of power and pride. In a woman�s dream, a lion may represent the male aspect of her psyche. A Freudian interpretation may consider lions the powerful and admired aspect of the father. It may also symbolize your animal nature or aggressiveness and will to power. Mystical Meaning In the Tarot, the Lion is a symbol of strength that can be controlled by gentleness (symbolized by a woman dressed in white). Astrology says that Leo, the sign of the Lion is gregarious and likes to be the centre of attention. Perhaps your dream is saying that you are displaying these egocentric qualities. The Black man When I first moved into �shit street� I had this dream. I was lying on my bed and I could feel someone watching me. Standing at the top of my bed near my draw I watched myself. I could see a black bald thin man, well toned and handsome, hovering over my body. I then opened my eyes, back in my body now and saw the face of the man, the top half of his body hovering over mine, his face hovering within inches of my face. Smiling I closed my eyes and tilted my head up to feel his gentle breathe on my face. Comforted by this man, no fear of him, a reassuring feeling that I was in the right place. Realizing that this man was somehow a part of me, his body disappearing into the blanket near my waist, his legs intertwined in mine. Grandfather I was on the phone to my grandmother (a few years ago now), and she happened to mention a dream she had about my grandfather. He was standing on a hill smiling at her and waving. She told me in detail the look on his face of sheer happiness, the gleam in his eyes, the friendly wave beckoning her to ponder why. There was nothing strange about her dreaming, as she dreamt quite a lot. But to dream of my grandfather was strange. She wasn�t scared, but I was. I could see that there was a reason why she had mentioned that particular dream to me and I was uneasy for days. A few weeks later my grandfather was in hospital diagnosed with cancer. From that point on he was never the same. Both physically and mentally he was tired. My wonderful grandfather, once the sole provider for his family, a proud, strong man reduced to relying on my grandmother for everything. I remember one night after work while my grandfather was sick, desperately wanting to see him. I was sitting in my lounge at 5:30pm my boyfriend was just about to walk toward me to kiss me goodbye before he went to work, when I said, �We have to go�. He called into work, and we were at grandmother�s house by 11:00pm. When I arrived 2 of my aunts were doing the nightshift care of my grandfather and my grandmother was asleep in her bedroom with her door half open. I only budged from the couch when I heard her whisper �Nicole is that you, what time is it?� I could tell by the redness that surrounded her eyes that she had been crying for a while. I hugged her and she went back to sleep. I snuck into the second lounge where my grandfather was, and he was watching tv, surrounded by hospital garbo and monitors. Turning only when I had been sitting on the seat beside him for 15 minutes. Just to say �Oh, I thought you were Rose my nurse, but she is fatter than you�, before laughing and returning to his television programme. Shortly after that he was spewing into a container before he was given pain medication to help his sleep. I watched my aunt as she tucked him in and called the local on duty doctor, watching him slip into an artificial slumber sighing as he wept. He was admitted back into hospital a few hours after I left to go home. We returned a week later to the hospital a day before my grandfather�s death. My aunt and grandmother stayed at the hospital and the rest of the family went back to my uncle�s house to sleep. He died at 6am the following morning in my aunt�s arms. The love my grandfather had for my grandmother was amazing and extended to his last moments of life. She was right beside him throughout the short month he was sick, and left only to go to the toilet, in those few seconds he took his last breathe. I remember my aunt telling me of how it happened. My grandfather began to stir and thrash she pulled the oxygen mask from his face and lifted him up to hug him, as she lowered my grandfather my grandmother walked in. I know now that my grandmother would not have survived witnessing his death and we would have had to bury them both if she did. For his love of her I am truly thankful. Michael's Name I had a dream 2 days before my first scan of Michael. In my dream I was staring at a birth plan, which I hadn�t even complied yet as I wasn�t that far along. There were two names at the top of the page, one Eleanor and the second was Michael. On the top right-hand side was the name Eleanor and on the top left-hand side was the name Michael. These large hands, which I know were my grandfathers, opened the clean cover to the birth plan and pointed at the name Michael before saying �That is a good name�. I went to my first scan as normal and found out that I was indeed having another boy. I told bofie about the dream and we decided that we would call him Michael. My grandmother 3 months ago finally asked why I had called my son Michael. I told her about my dream, she glared at me while smiling and then smiled at Michael before crying and turning her head so that I could not see her cry. Bofiez Best Friend Just his face, the smile on his face that would make most women melt. Nothing lustful, just the smile on his face, the way he screws up his face when he is about to laugh at one of bofies snive comments about stuff���guy stuff, shit I don�t bother listening to. I felt a sense of empathy. Ebony � Part One I have come from a large city, left the hustle and bustle of the city and my hectic corporate job for a break, alone. I am in the lobby of some kind of swanky resort in the middle of nowhere and find myself at the bottom of a stairwell glancing at a painting on the wall. A landscape painting of a secluded waterfall, a high dark grey rock cliff face from which a waterfall gushes. Below the waterfall is a swimming hole, the water a dark green colour that reflects how deep the water really is. Long yellow grasses surround the flat pieces of land at the bottom of the painting. This place is familiar I have been there before I know this place. I turn from gazing at the painting as I notice a man standing beside me looking at the picture too. He is a young, well-built, sturdy, muscular American Indian man with shoulder length jet-black straight hair, very handsome. As I stare at him as he speaks not taking his eyes from the painting �That is a local scene�. I know this man, though we have never met. He then disappears. I walk upstairs to unpack and dress in a black low cut gown. The heavy long length silk gown that flows and moves like feathers floating in a light breeze as I walk. I walk down the winding staircase grabbing a glass of champagne from a waiter at the bottom of the stairs before making my way to the lounge past the painting, taking a sip of my champagne, taking a glance at the painting once more. The room is crowded with people, as one by one they strike up conversation with me I become bored and make my way out to the pool alone. It is dark and the air is comfortable. As I wonder around the outdoor swimming pool that is brought to life with lights embedded in the sides of the pool I take another sip of my champagne. Knowing that there is more to this place. There is always more. I have a purpose in this place but I am not aware of it yet. As I walk around the pool I notice a horse stable in the darkness. I walk into the stables and only notice that there is a horse when he begins to stir knowing that I am a stranger. Angry wild and untamed he kicks violently at his stable door. I see the fire in his eyes, although I am not scared. Inquisitively I walk slowly toward the horse with my hands extended. As I touch his nose he stops and calms. I then reach around to pat his neck seeing the fire from his eyes diminish. I do know this place, I have been here before? As I place my head in the horse�s neck I feel the silkiness of him, not a trace of the untamed animal that I had disturbed seconds before. I turn slowly to the darkest part of the stable to see a man standing leaning with arms folded against the wall, watching me. As he walks towards me I only then notice that he is the same man from the lobby. Well so I thought�������.. As he comes closer to the horse it starts to stir, as he gets closer still I catch a glimpse of the fire returning into the horses eyes, I step back, the horse then kicks the stable door violently until the man raises his hand to it. The horse then calms as it nudges the mans hand in affection. The Native American man not shifting his gaze from the horse sez �This is my mothers horse no one has ever been able to ride him since she went missing�. I know this man, I just don�t know how. He is not the man from the lobby in the resort. It is too dark. As the local guide he then promises to take me to see the scene in the painting the following day. He then disappears and I am left with a sense of emptiness and intrigue as to how I know him. Although he looks like the man who was in the lobby he is not, I know for certain that he is not. But how do I know? Mid morning I find myself in a pair of white shorts, shoestring singlet and brown hiking ankle boots, making my way to the stables. As the people from the resort saddle up we make for the woods and because the track is so narrow we are forced to remain in single file. As we pass by the thin layers of trees moving deeper into the forest the sunlight systematically beams through onto my skin gently caressing me. I then notice a hill as the trees become less dense and on the hill are old wooden polls once structures. Seeing movement on the hill in the distance I notice a young woman dressed in native American clothes, clothes as white as a dove. Long flowing black hair tied at the base of her neck tightly and a band over her forehead. She is running in the same direction that we are moving. I position myself so that I can see her properly and strain my eyes against the light that beams through the trees. She then disappears from my view as the man from the stables gallops his horse to ride along side me blocking my view of the place where I had seen the woman run. Looking at him I then notice that he is not the man from the stables but he is the man from the resorts lobby. The same one I had been thinking about since our brief encounter the night before. I know him he is the man from my dreams. The dreams I use to have as a teen. Without looking at me he glances in the direction of the hill before saying �That is an old American Indian burial ground where my people are buried. I then feel his inquisitive gaze like butterfly kisses on my cheek. I forget the secluded waterfall site and enjoy the rest of the day trekking in the forest. For several days after that we spend a lot of time together, speaking of things in general. His name is Ebony, he is from the area and is a twin. His identical twin brother whom I had met in the stable. He is full of wit and charm and I find myself drawn closer to him as each day passes. I tell him nothing of how everything seems familiar, even him. On the following day we decide to go horse trekking again, but this time he gives me his mothers horse, the same horse that had calmed at his twin brothers touch. We do not go deep into the forest as before instead we go around it. Enjoying the sun as I extend my head up to feel the hot sun on my face in that moment the horse throws me to the ground. I lift my head just in time to see the horse dart off into the thick trees. Ebony picks me up and places me in front of him on his horse. Feeling his wide muscular torso, thighs and groin moulding my back, his arms around me holding the reins I sink into him as we make our way to our destination. I relax resting my head in his neck my forehead against his chin. I would be content with staying like this forever, not wanting anything more but to remain in his arms. I fall asleep. I awaken several hours later still in his embrace on the horse. Staring at his jaw line he lovingly looks at me and we kiss. As we head toward a thin layer of trees the horse stops and it is only when I jump off the horse do I notice the horse that had bucked me off calmly eating grass through the trees. As I make my way closer I then notice that there is a clearing ahead, forgetting Ebony I walk toward the clearing. It is the waterfall in the picture from the lobby. I stare in amazement. Ebony throws down a blanket on the tall grass and I spend what seems like forever just sitting and staring at the beautiful waterfall saying nothing. The water flows from the waterhole into a raging river filled with large smooth dark grey boulders that jut out along the banks of the river, yet the swimming hole is calm and safe. We kiss and I find myself pulling his shirt from shorts and up over his head. I spend a few seconds admiring the broad muscular chest in front of me. He glides his hands under my singlet and removes it. He slowly removes my clothing piece by piece I see the lust in his eyes, the sexual hunger, yet he is patient and takes his time removing my clothes, enjoying lightly caressing every part of my body. He sez nothing before he enters me. He feels so big as I dig my heels into the back of his thighs. I scream the echo amplified by the walls of the cliff, I bury my head into his chest that now towers over me. I arch my back in pleasure as he slowly pushes deeper inside me. I throw my head back and stare at the clouds in the sky as his gentle rhythm creates surges through my body for hours on end. He cums deep inside me and I let out a scream as he thrusts one more time deep inside me. Enjoying what we have together and knowing that I will have to go back to the hustle and bustle that has become my life in another country I decide not to mention how familiar he or these surroundings are to me. We spend the following week horse trekking from the resort to the waterfall, swimming and making love in the clearing by the waterfall. Ebony Part Two Time passes too fast and I realize that I do not have much time left with ebony. We have become close, fate? I telephone home to New Zealand for my mother to send the charcoal drawings I had drawn as a teen. The landscape pictures I had seen only in my dreams until recently. They arrive a few days later in a black leather case with black plastic handles. I open the case alone in my room. Taking the folded drawing I walk downstairs to the lobby. I wait until I reach the painting on the wall at the bottom of the stairs, unfold the drawing without looking at it. I look up at the painting and then unwillingly glance down at the charcoal drawing. My heart sinks as I realize that the painting and the drawing are identical, right down to the large rocks that jut out from the raging river. A tear runs down my face as I realize that I was meant to come to this resort and to meet Ebony. I turn from the painting quickly closing the picture to Ebony�s concerned glance. I can feel my heart racing as I slowly but reluctantly unfold the picture, closing my eyes as tears run down my face I try to explain. Ebony gazes at the picture in amazement, his eyes darting from the painting on the wall and the charcoal drawing he holds in his hand. We go on as if the ironies of the pictures do not exist. But I feel his inquisitive stares on me periodically, when we are at the waterfall together. Ebony decides that it would be nice for me to meet his family and I agree not wanting to offend him. As we make our way to his house we hold hands saying nothing, enjoying the walk and each other�s company. The house is a two-story wooden house, no flower gardens, just trees thick, old beautiful green trees. He clenches my hand as he leads me up the stairs onto the veranda and toward the front door. The front door is a large sliding door that extends from the floor to the top level of the bottom section of the house. We walk directly into the lounge that is the width of the house and half of the bottom floor. Polished redwood floors a mantle with photos, a round petticoat table, the 3-seater sofa. His twin brother sitting on the sofa that faces away from the door. He is watching TV. I smile at him as his brother introduces us. I sit on the end of the sofa and take a look at the picture in the frame placed in the middle of the petticoat table. A picture is of a young, beautiful, Native American woman standing alone. The same woman I had seen running on the hill behind the trees while horse trekking. I am quickly told by ebony that the picture is of his mother. She had mysteriously gone missing when he was four. I hide the amazement in my face behind the quick smile I flash him. I meet his father who is a spitting image of his handsome and well-built sons. His face weathered by sadness. I then meet their uncle, his father�s brother. I watch him as he enters the room, his presence disturbs me. I notice only his eyes, his deep dark eyes that show a glimpse of the evil emanating from him. We speak of things in general for a while and I curl up onto the arm of the sofa, before sinking into a deep sleep. I awaken to no one in the room, half asleep I go to find ebony. I make my way to the front of the house and notice a tee pee on the front lawn near a tree. I enter the tee pee to the warm smile of an old man who sez nothing but greets me with a warm smile. His gaze piercing my soul as I realize that in this man too, I have a connection. I have never met him although I feel like I have known this man all of my life. The tee pee is quite large, despite the view from outside. The ground under the tee pee has been dug out, and in the middle of the floor are hot stones that the old man systematically pours cold water over. The old man ushers me to sit I take off my top as it is too hot in the tee pee. He looks up from staring at the stone to say to me �I have been waiting for you for many years�. Ebony and his brother enter the tee pee and take off their shirts joining us. The old man says nothing more as he stares at his twin grandsons. We all leave the tee pee feeling cleansed and exhausted. I say nothing to Ebony of what his grandfather had said and enjoy just being in this place. I make my way back to the sofa and fall into a deep sleep again, leaving Ebony, his twin brother, his uncle, his father and his grandfather talking on the table. I feel at home here. The dream within the dream I dream, of being at the waterfall. The scenes in my dream come to me like flames as they burn in an uncontrollable inferno. Flickering in the darkness the scenes hit me. As I look down at the clothes I am wearing I frown as I notice that I am wearing a white hide skirt with tassels. I touch my head to feel a band around my head my hair pulled back at the base of my neck. My hair feels different, thin and slick. I make my way to the edge of the waterfall, as I look at my refection I notice that the refection staring back at me is not my own but of the woman who was running on the hill, the same woman in the picture on the petticoat table in Ebony�s house. From the trees comes a man, unknown at first. I feel as though I am a puppet not having the ability to control the scene that has been made for me, or a scene that has already taken place, a scene that I am forced to relive again. Everything is so real, I can feel the sun on my face, see the deep green of the waterfall and smell the fresh grass blowing in the gentle breeze. This woman is sad I can feel it. Her body is tense I feel it in the way in which she does not turn to greet this man. I find myself saying to the man without even turning to face him �We cannot do this anymore I love my husband and my sons too much, it is over�. We argue although I am still not aware of who the man is. He begs me to stay with him to be with him forever, to run away, together. As he shouts the word �forever� a flash of two young twin boys with long black straight hair waiting on the front steps of a house with a large veranda comes to me. I feel a sense of urgency to go to them, to go home, to be with them. I just need to hold them to let them know that I love them and that I am sorry. I run as fast as I can toward the river ignoring the man. I run along the river until I loose the man from the waterfall, I run until I reach a very large boulder, I fall hard to the ground as someone grabs my arm. I turn to face the man, and notice that he is the same man from the waterfall. This time I see his face, his dark eyes. The fire in his dark eyes, the anger and evil that emanates from them. The bellowing of the river as it gushes around the large rocks in the river drowned the cracking of my arm as he roughly holds me down. He shouts, �You will never leave me�. As he raises his hand over his head I only then notice the large rock in his hand. I feel no pain; the movement is so swift and calculated I am caught unaware. The blood gushes from my head I feel the warmth slowly leave my body. As I am thrown into the river slowly sinking to the bottom I stare up at the light thinking of the two boys waiting for me on the front steps of the house with the huge veranda. My eyes slowly begin to close, the light fades�����.. In that instant I awaken sitting straight up on the sofa gasping for air before letting out a bone-chilling scream , I continue to scream as Ebony runs toward me. Breathless and upset I start to cry. He sits beside the sofa to comfort me. I am sitting up on the sofa my legs toward the front door. My fear turns to anger and I turn to notice Ebony�s uncle behind me. I brush Ebony aside as I make my way toward his uncle. Their eyes are the same, their faces are identical. I say in a voice that is conjured up with the exhaustion I feel for being a puppet in a dream I could not control. �You killed her, you knew she didn�t want you so you killed her� Ebony�s uncle replies with such amazement �I don�t� know what you are talking about, you are mad. �You couldn�t handle the fact that she wanted to be with him and not you� Ebony�s uncle starts to make his way to the front door. Before I find myself saying in a voice that is not my own, and in a language that I do not know. �You killed me beside the large boulder on the banks of the raging river and then threw me into the river, you then told everyone I had run away, that I was unhappy. I was unhappy being with you. I was planning on telling my husband everything, and to beg for his forgiveness. I loved him and not you, and you couldn�t stand that.� With the last words that exit my mouth he turns slowly as he recognizes the voice. After so many years how could this be? Ebony�s father, grandfather and brother walk toward us and stare in disbelief. Stare as I walk toward the man who had killed their wife, mother and daughter. Walk with no fear toward him before whispering so that the others could not hear. �You though that you would get away with it? You will rot in hell� I smile at him, the smile is not mine. He smiles back at me before saying�����.. �You deserved everything you got, slut! You deserved to die. And to think that you were going to leave me for him and those kids.� Ebony�s father lunges at his brother and his held back by his son. Ebony�s brother rings the police. The policeman turns to me before handcuffing ebony�s uncle and sez �We will need you to take us to the site where we will search for the body�. Ebony�s uncle remains quite as a police officer handcuffs his hands behind his back. He turns to smirk at me before he is taken out the front door and to the police car. I sit back on the sofa with my hands covering my face not wanting to be in this place. Ebony does not come near me, not even to comfort me as I sob into my hands. Instead his grandfather comes to hug me, I feel ebony on the other side of the room saying nothing but staring in my direction. Not wanting/able to move from where he was standing. Ebony�s grandfather returns me to the resort at my request saying nothing, although I feel his warm smiles. He reaches out with his arms outstretched, while in this embrace he whispers �thank you�. I break away from his comforting embrace and as his face slowly turns away from me I notice a tear run down his cheek before dropping from his chin. I never see him again. The following morning I lead the police, and ebony�s entire family to the waterfall, along the river to the large rocks and the familiar sound of the river hissing as it gushes over the rocks. I lead them to a calm spot on the rivers edge. Noticing that the river has changed from the river I had in my dreams. The policeman leans over a small rock in the stagnant pool, deep beneath the rock are skeletal remains of a person. The eye sockets of the skull staring straight up toward the surface in the calm pool. As everyone moves toward the police officer near the pool of water I step back with my head hung, wishing I had never come to this place, wishing that I was home. I can feel Ebony�s stares but am too afraid to look at him. The questions he will ask, the many things that I had kept from him. The look on his face that would be caused by the explaining would eat me alive. I decide to return home. I return to the resort, go straight to my room and book a flight home. I throw my suitcases onto the double bed and frantically throwing my clothes into them. I become aware of the charcoal drawings in the case and throw the case onto the bed with the suitcases. As I lift the two full suitcases from the bed I take one last look at it on the bed, before shutting the door behind me, leaving the case with the drawings on the bed. As the yellow taxi drives down the long driveway with huge trees on either side, I smile and mutter while leaning on the window. �I have come here to do what fate has willed me to do, now that you have what you want it is time for me to go home�. Sadness engulfs me although I do not cry. The taxi driver looks at me not hearing what I had just said before saying� �Pardon mam? I didn�t hear what you just said, but we will make it to the airport well before your flight.� I sink into my seat looking up at the trees as the sun beams through them gently caressing my face. Being so exhausted from my flight I leave my suitcases at the bottom of the stairs and make my way to my bedroom. I fall onto my bed sinking into the soft white duvet cover and sleep. No dreaming just sleep. My alarm clock goes off and I start the ritual of getting into the shower before getting dressed into my suit for work. I make my way to work as usual in my car stuck in rush hour traffic. I take the lift to the 8th floor, pass the receptionist who is on the phone, grab my phone messages as are waved at me by the receptionist, I then open the glass door to my spacious office. I place the huge wad of phone messages on the desk and stare out at the gray concrete city thinking of Ebony, his face and the smile that made my heart melt. For weeks afterward I go back to as I was before I had taken the holiday to the resort. Ebony slowly diminishing from my thoughts. Working late again I am at my desk when I feel a little nauseated. I make my way to the staff bathroom in a dizzy haze and throw up in the toilet. Staring around the beautiful black marble bathroom the nausea subsides. After work I go to the chemist where I buy a pregnancy test. I throw it into my purse and forget about it. The next day while working late I look for something in my purse and only then remember the test. I take it to the staff toilet. Leaving the test on the black marble sink I wash my hands. I lift the test up and the test is positive, I am pregnant. I stare at my reflection in the mirror then throw the test into the bin. I make an appointment with my doctor the following day. I lie on the bed in a medical gown and sigh. As the doctor examines me he confirms the blood tests. I am indeed pregnant. He then places gel on my tummy before placing the ultrascan device on my abdomen. He looks at screen and smiles, �Would you like to know what you are going to have?� I nod my head inquisitively. �You are going to have twin boys�. My mother takes the news hard and urges me to tell the father of the twins. I lie to family and friends and say that the baby�s father was of no importance, and that I did not even know his name. Even though these children were his, he would never have to know. Life for him could go on, he would be free to do whatever he wanted opposed to feeling obligated to these two children. Children that I could love and care for, children that I indeed wanted. My mind wonders off into thoughts of being a mother, and I smile to myself as the doctor exits the examination room. I slowly get dressed. In the months that follow I think of Ebony as I rub my growing bump. He would never need to know of his children; life for him could carry on. I would not contact him. He would never know. I am at a mall shopping for baby clothes when someone calls my name. I turn and my smile fades into shock as I notice that it is Ebony�s twin brother. As he walks closer to me he notices my huge tummy. His warm smile eases my shock and we walk together toward a caf� where we sit and talk. We do not talk of the babies growing inside me, instead we talk about what he has been doing since we last met. He talks esthetically about his travels around the world the many things he has seen. As he gets up from the table he glances at me. A tear runs down my face as the guilt engulfs me. I answer in almost a whisper. �My partner and I are overjoyed that we are having babies� He smiles as he hears the word babies. Twin boys I inform him with a glow in my proud face. We embrace and my heart sinks as I watch him leave, wondering if I had made the right choice in not telling Ebony of his sons. The birth went as planned and I returned home two weeks after giving birth. My mother accompanied me home with the twins to help me for the first couple of weeks at home. When she leaves I wheel their cots into my bedroom where I can keep a closer eye on them. Spending most nights gazing at their little hands and faces, watching them sleep. In the weeks that follow I spend all of my time tending to my babies and being visited by friends and family who dote over my beautiful sons. They have full heads of straight black hair and as they grow they start to look more and more like their handsome father. I am content until one day when my mother informs me that she is coming over with an old friend to see the twins and I. I hear my mother open the front door with her set of keys, as I am in the kitchen downstairs. Still dressing in my pajamas I inform her that the twins are asleep in their room. I hear many footsteps as several people enter the house. Thinking it is my mother and the friend she was talking about on the phone I say nothing and return to my bottle washing at the kitchen sink. I then hear footsteps going up the stairs. My mother stands up from the sofa in the lounge as I walk toward the bottom of the stairs and her, saying only �Go to the babies�. As I make my way up toward the baby�s room and toward their door that is half open I notice a man standing over the cots looking at one of the babies that is now smiling at him. He turns and I gulp hard as I notice that the man in the nursery is Ebony. His twin brother in the corner of the room holding my other son. I manage to conjure up a nervous �HI�. Ebony does not shift his gaze from the baby, saying nothing before taking the baby from his cot and lovingly holding at him. He walks toward the window seat and sits facing the window not acknowledging me. I stand like a possum in headlights as I watch Ebony and our son, unable/unwilling to move. Ebony then raises from his seat, speaks to his brother in a language I do not understand. His brother takes the baby from his brother and makes his way past me in the center of the room with the boys. As I slowly turn to follow my sons toward the door Ebony comes behind me and slams the door with his hand. His hand inches from the top of my shoulder and my face. Not wanting to turn around to look at him I reach for the doorknob. In a booming voice he sez �We need to talk�. Without looking at him I make my way to the chair in the corner of the room. Before I could sit down he asks me why I had not told him that I was pregnant, and why he had found out only by chance when his brother had retuned home two weeks ago and had accidentally mentioned that he had seen me on his travels, and that I was pregnant. My heart sank as I looked up before telling him that he had no reason to be in my house or to hold my children, and that the twins were not his. Anger soon brought him straight toward me, in fear I leaped off the chair finding there is nowhere to run I stand against the wall in the corner of the room beside the chair, he then grabs my arm and holds it against the wall. For the fist time since falling asleep on the sofa in his house, I look into his eyes. Seeing the eyes that had made my heart melt. As I am brought face to face with the father of my children I see in Ebony the same eyes he had given my sons. He releases my arm from his grip watching the tears run down my face and my body shake in fear. He says nothing as he releases my arm as quickly as he had grabbed it. A wave of shame in not telling him of his sons grips me as I watch him head toward the door. He makes his way toward the door, but before opening it stops momentarily before saying in an angry tone �I know they are mine Nicole, I know�. Dream � Dad I find myself checking messages on my cel, to my amazement I am listening to a message from my father, saying that he may be able to attend the hospital appointment for my son tomorrow, the concern in his voice that he normally had since my son was first diagnosed. My heart still hurts at the prospect that he will not be walking through the door ever again and that when I need him the most he will not be there. I wonder why it takes the brain so long to register emotional facts, I thought I was okay I thought I was coping, but I am not. I wish he was here especially tomorrow when I have to take the baby to the hospital, there in spirit is a whole lot of bullshit. I refuse to comfort myself in that false hope. I miss him so much today and will probably miss him more tomorrow. The Haka I find myself watching two figures that stand out against pitch-blackness, almost an artificial black background. I know that there is ground because the two figures are not suspended yet I am unable to see the ground. The two figures, one is my uncle my mothers younger brother, the other is a taniwha bone chilling fierce face but a very colourful handsome creature. I watch in fear as the taniwha turns to my uncle and starts his haka the anger and mana emanating from this creature scares me. My uncle stands, not flinching, not moving a muscle, just watching. The Taniwha�s haka lasts for what seems like an eternity. I find myself watching in awe as my uncle steps within inches of the taniwha without fear. He then begins his haka as he challenges the taniwha, chanting in Maori, in the infamous haka stance. I watch as my uncle places his face within inches of the taniwha�s face. The last thing I see is the Taniwhas face in the pitch-blackness of the dream within inches of mine. I am not scared. My Nephew I find myself holding a baby boy approximately 6 months old. He is a very handsome fair boy with a full head of jet-black hair. He is wearing a baby blue striped t-shirt with matching trousers. My younger sister takes him from me only then do I realise that he is not a stranger�s child, but that he is her son, my nephew. I smile as I gaze at him, looking at him with his mother he looks like my sons, and spitting image of his beautiful mother. |
 |
| DREAMS |