Dream Visitations

On an early spring night I dreamed of a young man in a red tunic who simply floated down a sandy ridge above my place on the beach. He passed me quickly in a heavy silence. Then he turned back and stood before me, his arms akimbo, his face smiling with welcome. There was a flash in my brain - it almost woke me up - and then a truth I had been pursuing for weeks suddenly flooded my brain, pure and whole. The young man in the red tunic was gone, and no foot prints in the raw sand traced his departure... I dreamed of a young man in a red tunic, who got lost in his thoughts, He was braced against a palm tree, as he slept deeply, occasionally stirring as if he were on a mission, other than bodily rest. When he finally woke, he spoke without surprise, as if we were - friends on an outing. "The road above us leads to a wicked city. We will not cut through it, but circle around it. As you are fond of saying, Daniel, 'So it goes! '" It's true - that's what I say. We spent the day together, and I cannot tell when the dream ended (if it did) , nor when my reality took over (if it did) ... Night after night, he visited my dreams, the young man in a red tunic. Sometimes his visit was a silence, he was like a statue, and I was not inclined to speak myself. I slept. Other times he spoke at length, eloquently, vividly about "de rerum natura" - he was a latter-day Lucretius, revealing to me quantum realities completely new to me. When I awoke from such dreams, I wrote what he told me in a notebook. On the cover I wrote only a single word: "EUREKA! "... It is winter now, a mild winter this year, blue skies abound, no heavy snow confines us, makes driving difficult. It is an easy season. The young man in a red tunic has been absent for sixty-two nights. I will keep counting, I will be vigilant....