Living in the Dreamtime - Spirit Writer Julia Jarrell
The night I walked into your dream
I wakened to sensations of a fall,
rose to see what's dream, what's real.
We were in our house on Huisache street,
the children peacefully sleeping. From the window
I could see our vegetable garden and the bunnies
on the porch in their hutches, with the painted sign
Roaring Raymond's Rabbit Ranch, your latest alliterative vision.
The front rooms, barn-like with no walls, only posts
and ladders clear up to the rafters, ready for the play
the next day for our friends and neighbors.
When I saw you so deep in sleep,
and the dog still undisturbed, I knew
I had walked into your dream. Surreal,
we entered an imaginary house, unknown yet
still familiar. You took the lead
into a space with circling mobiles, balance beams
floating in air, and one way ascending stairs.
You took my hand, as we leapt to catch each staircase,
though at higher levels you let go to
manipulate the jump and flipping points to keep us climbing
upward, I was afraid of the unexpected
scaling, but you excited by the challenge,
pushed us on along a beam that stretched beyond our sight—
I heard your laughter as the balance was upended
and I waked as I fell out of the dream of those years
and the unsettling pleasures of life with you,
exploring the plunge, learning to float when falling.
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