SOMETIMES DREAMS ARE POEMS

Collage by S. Auberle

It must be the full moon, but lately my dreams have been bizarre. There was the magic carpet dream--a rug of royal blue, flying through the sky; the dream of a carousel spinning in the sky; the bathtub dream--full of cut geraniums--this was one of those frustration dreams we all have, where I wanted to take a bath, but could not clear the tub of the flowers, which kept filling the tub; finally, the skyscraper dream--with windows that looked out onto the ocean, except that with every floor you ascended to, the water ascended with you, and at the top--out of that water emerged an animal--a buffalo or yak of some sort, led by an aged Tibetan man. The man then began setting up tables with art objects for sale: carved figures, prayer beads, small wooden boxes--which appeared to be depthless, and contained many layers: tiny pearl jewelry pieces, paints and paintings, brushes, and finally, a beautiful robin's egg blue necklace, carved of a single character. I asked the old man what the character meant and he said love...