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Vivid Dreams

Let me tell you about a dream I had.

I know, I know: dreams are ethereal. And maybe this one comes because I’ve been watching too much Lost, had ice cream right before bed the night before, and my sub-conscious has a lot to work out. Maybe it had something to do with the poster I saw at my friend Kristy’s house. And yeah: it doesn’t stand up to standard dream-interpretation scrutiny.

I don’t really care. Maybe a dream can be just a dream?

…

I was on an island, and sunset drew near.

The Structures

There was a large city in the middle of this island, tucked into rising foothills.

The city’s design spoke of an older era: square buildings in shades of red, brown and white nestled closely together. If you’ve ever seen the French Riviera or perhaps the homes on the coast of Greece, perhaps you’ll know what I mean.

The city was deserted. No doors opened and closed, no children ran in the streets, market squares were utterly silent.

Trek north and you’ll come upon a castle in the snow. (I never saw the castle directly in my dream, but I knew it was there.) The castle was my home base. West of the city the foothills gave way to steep cliffs that raced each other into the ocean.

Fall away from the city and venture east, down a plain sloping toward the beach. On this plain sits a small fort. There are a few buildings there and a couple of corrals meant for animals. This is where the other team was holding two of my friends captive.

Death and Rescue

Perhaps they were a faction, or another tribe - maybe “team” isn’t the right word. Regardless, there was hostility between our two sides, and a set of inviolable rules that we “played” by. They had captured two from my team, though, according to those rules. And I wanted to get them back.

I could run fast. I remember the feeling of speed in my dream. (Which is unusual - I typically never run as fast as I want in my dreams.) I didn’t have much else going for me in this rescue other a long, straight sword.

I raced down the plain and straight into their fort. They weren’t expecting me, and before anyone could react I was beside the guard watching my friends. I raised my sword to her neck, and she was dead.

Well, “dead” according to the rules - I didn’t actually hurt her. But we knew the rules; she was not allowed to stop me now.

We fled up the plain, toward the city. Others of their team pursued, but if I kept swinging my sword at them I could keep them at bay. I held them off long enough for my friends to retrieve their gear and get a head start. Then I ran, too.

Three of them were fast, though. One was a young boy, about 7 or 8 years old; he had red hair, and was closest to catching me. He didn’t have the stamina to keep up, though - he grew tired and cried out for my help.

I turned around and scooped him up, letting him ride piggy-back style as I continued running toward the deserted city. For some reason - maybe the rules? - this was okay. The boy was not afraid, and I knew this boy and all the rest of his team had once been my friends.

I called over my shoulder to the two still pursuing me, “Why don’t you join us? One day, we’ll all be together anyhow!” They knew this to be true, as I did, but it seemed their loyalty kept them south. I ran on, and they eventually gave up.

I knew I wanted to reach my castle before nightfall, and though it was several miles away I wasn’t afraid of not making it. Even though I ran with a small red-headed boy on my back, I knew I wouldn’t grow tired.

We slowed as we drew near the top of the plain.

The Ruins

We came upon small ruins of an old building as we crested the rise. One of my guys was sitting atop a wall’s remains, resting and waiting for us. We stopped and drank the vista - the sun was about to set.

I walked to a crumbled portion of the nearest wall and leaned against it.

The colors around me were brilliant: the reds of the expiring sky, the ocean sparkling beyond the cliffs, dancing with the sun’s light. The city’s buildings were afire as the last of the sun’s rays drenched them in golden hues. We were not cold. Even the grass was truly green - a green that made the hills of my (awake) home look like a pale, washed out version of reality.

Tears

As we watched the sun set, I envisioned the day our tribes would be united again. I envisioned the time when the city streets would teem with life, each residence filled with a family that truly knew peace.

I imagined us enjoying sunsets every evening: people ceasing from their work, their travel, their conversations - for just a few minutes - to revel in a scene like the we drank in then. And we would all appreciate the view each evening as much as we did the evening before, and no one would be afraid of the silence that curled up around us as movement ceased.

I felt the boy on my back and yearned for the future where there would be no war between us, and we could each go up to the castle or down to the fort as we pleased.

I carried my enemy upon my back, and that was somehow right. I stopped my running long enough to drink deeply of something glorious, and that was right, too.

In my dream, I began to cry quiet tears - I did not want to leave that place! It was too real, too beautiful, too rich. It would break my heart to go back. The longing behind my tears reached all the way to my sleeping, dreaming self that, though knew I was dreaming, longed just as desperately to stay in the place.

I woke up shortly thereafter.

I knew the island to be heaven… part of it. I knew that people belonged there, and while there was hostility now, hostility would give way to peace. And, my current adventures notwithstanding, my soul knew I am meant to go back.