A Dream

My first dream without the darkness.

It’s raining outside and I am listening to the soft pitter-patter through the open window. My hair is still damp from the shower and my skin feels soft and warm. My feet are bare and curled underneath me as I sit lotus-style. I feel like I am levitating. I look beneath me and catch my breath as I feel the earth under my toes shift. Where once were shadows, drought-ridden grass, and brittle leaves are a lush foundation.

I float home in my dream- I walk through my parent’s home looking at the same tired furniture that has followed me through my short little life and stare at each piece as though I hadn’t really noticed before. My senses are sharpened. As if before I was looking at life through a peephole—focused on the present passion, void of the larger picture, the completeness that life has to offer. “It has always been there for the taking!” shouts the oak table I drag the back of my hand across. “We knew you’d take awhile” the Matruska dolls proclaim. “Yes, we’ve been waiting patiently for you to get it”, chirps the cheeky metal dog-nutcracker. And it is true. I see. More important, I feel. This feeling transcends everything I have ever thought to be fact.

And it hits me. Over and over. The wind that blows through my hair and tickles my chin; the foundation of grass beneath my toes supporting, unfailing; the bead of perspiration appearing on my chest reminding me I possess intense passion; the whisper in my ear reminding me that I am beautiful and loved and wonderful; and the amazing hunger in my mouth and on my lips that will never, ever be satisfied.

But, then I wake up. And I am sore, tired, brittle, broken, and cold and CANCER is taking it's hold. It coils around my feet and slowly tightens, restricts.....until there is no room for you.