What’s in a dream? Ask ten experts and you will get at least seven variable opinions.
Are the images and stories played out while we rest simply the mind’s way of defragmenting and filing away information or are they forgotten conversations of long ago? Are dreams conjured by restless imaginations, unconquered fears or outside stimulation? Are they side effects of what we eat and drink or are they answers to what we seek? Suppose one isn’t [knowingly] seeking anything other than a good night’s sleep? I have only questions that beget more questions.
Somewhere in the twilight of slumber a woman approaches. Her brown eyes and skin are soft, almost radiant. Her dark hair rests like black satin about her shoulders; her lips are like wine but she does not speak for there is no need to. She holds a palm leaf in her hand and offers with it her wisdom. I follow her to a place where patches of green grass surround a dry fountain and we sit with feet resting on knees and commune. A man watches in the distance… her protector? She has no reason to fear me nor do I fear of either of them. A repetitious psalm begins, one I am not familiar with. I motion to cease the unnecessary chant. They want to barter, she will tell me of a cure – a cure for the mind if I will….
I abruptly inform her that I do not bargain. I do not know her. Though she appears trustworthy I am skeptical. She politely bows her head when I inquire as to who she is and who sent her. As they vanish a white scroll of ribbon appears with blue letters written out before my eyes.
Sporadically over the years I have typed the phrase into every search engine and came to naught. I don’t recall ever seeing or hearing the term…
What’s in a dream? Once again I am left with only questions. Possibly it is just a bizarre tale waiting to be told for the reader’s entertainment. But not tonight. I am off in search of undisturbed sleep without riddles or prophesy.