A Dream of my Beloved

I dreamed the strangest dream, of a city street I have never seen and with thoughts running through my head like a swiftly running stream.

Nervous, disoriented, walking as if blind, only one streetlight to light the way, casting long shadows as if the sun had stayed in one place for too long for a star of its kind. 

(a whisper reaches my ears)

I am not alone, in front of me is a woman, her weight shifted onto one leg with a hand on her hip, she is wearing a dress, a coat, a black hat, curly hair spreading out around its bottom.

Her dress is white and short, a vague and enticing feeling of realization begins to form words on my lips.

Her face is covered by a high and fluffy collar that almost hides her eyes, she peeks at me above it and their outline is visible, the two of us exchange a look as if by some mental mirror spy.

Partially behind her stands a shorter woman, her weight shifted forward, leaning on an umbrella, wearing a black coat, smiling, her head cocked to the side.

Still further into the distance is another woman, framed in by a lonely streetlight, she stands confidently, her weight distributed evenly, smiling a knowing smile, knowing she could never try to hide it.

Her smile tells me she knows me and that I know her and indeed I do know her as I know them all, they are the same person, at different times and now their forms are no longer a blur.

All are an image of my beloved and the street they stand on are where we are and where we have been and where we are going, all three tell me they speak my language as if they need me to understand so I listen quiet and curious, attentive and there is no coersion.

Then first woman speaks and says that she is whom we once were, when we were young and confidently naiive, when we were cocky and full of promise, now we still are those two but now full of maturity and exoerience , we have come far and will go farther, to numerous places only our hearts can concieve. 

They second woman speaks to me from behind her high collar, she tells me that she is what we once feared not to know, her collar obstructs her face but not her words, substrates that I can only see her eyes because the future is unknown and can’t be spoken of until it is coming close, she speaks to me of how it once was, how it is and how it will be, my children are reflected in her eyes, real and standing there too, she calms me, lifts me up, tells me not to go against the streams’ flow.

The woman with the umbrella smiles at me, reminding me of how we have laughed and smiled, starting out so young we laughed a lot and then there were times that we did nor, darker times when nothing made sense and then we were really blessed with a child. 

By the streetlight the woman speaks soft words because she carries my heart in here and I am no longer confused, her words whisper to me, you are my beloved and I am yours, when the morning g broke through the window i awoke with joy – amused…..
T.S. Deary