Last night, I had a dream, about a place I'd never been, Shinin' sun on fields of gold, could be heaven for all I know, I close my eyes and then go back again
I'm house sitting this week. I've set up camp at the Dinning room table. I take up space in the fridge. I leave my shoes in the hallways, and I sleep in the big guest bed with a huge hairy chow named Bea.
Sleeping has been rough this last week. I've been waking up in sweats from the nightmares. Walking a thousand miles without ever leaving the bed, and having dreams that mash memories and fantasies.
Last night I dreamed I was walking back to Kansas City. I had only my shoes on my feet, the clothes on my back, and a backpack with a textbook that needed to be returned. I met many people on my journey. Brad Pitt helped me climb down a mountain (because we all know that there are mountains between me and home). Octamom had me carry two of her kids for a couple of miles. And I ran into an old long lost friend who walked a mile with me and discussed the adventures we had in Spain. Then I woke up and found Bea circling the bed trying to get comfortable before tucking her large nose under my armpit, and stretching the length of my body.
I close my eyes again and am transported to a table in the middle of a Plaza. Portuguese swirls, the ice in the sangria tinkles and at the table with me is a lobster, lost and unable to get home. I tell him to take the 10:15 to Cascais. This time I wake to the creaking of the fan. Bea is long gone. I save the comforter and close my eyes again.
This time I'm sent to an old well-loved blanket in an open field of waving grass. The blanket is backed against a tall mesquite tree, one that I have seen many times before on the side of a well traveled road. The tree stretches his branches over the blanket and keeps a lonely watch over the field. I sit on the blanket, waiting. I'm not sure for what, I just know it or they aren't there yet. And that whoever is coming will be there soon. Just as my eyes are opening I see him crest the hill, the golden sunshine reflected in his face and hair. My smile widens and he quickens his pace. He wraps he in his arms and leans his head back to laugh as he spins me off my feet. He puts me down and leans in, just in time for me to open my eyes to see a large dog staring curiously, inches from my face.
On the wind, I feel the warmth, like the town where I was born, Blowin' down a two lane road, it rides just like the one back home, I close my eyes and then go back again