0027 Dreaming Truth

Imagine yourself - yourself, to imagine – this dream; dream this imaging: the water’s so far, far below it’s beyond this dark imagining, this dream; all your attention is required by this rope bridge, swayed by nature to some immediate, vibrating laws of this way, that way, more complex than steel or concrete bear in mind – five lines of rope, that’s all, bound from time to time but only every few and fearful steps so that they do not part unless you tread without remembering all five of them; toe, heel, as you place your foot… and now it seems, in the illogical precision of this dream – which is in league with some dark inner truth and so, it must be walked – now, it’s not five ropes, any more, but five strings of some instrument vibrating, low and high; while tense, taut mind looks for firm frets to tune each step; or can you trust their tuning? is the tuning now the fingers of your feet? each fallible or faulty foothold will send its string’s own warning of uncertainty: this bass string, booming failure between the valley’s two high cliffs; this treble string, nerve-searing scream of pain; ahead, this firm support that holds the strings, now drops away; the hollow soundbox that’s all space, all sound, all air, all touch and light and flow of sound; the sound of judgment’s stern and justly-tempered final chord – now you awake: relieved, yet with a question, born of night, to be resolved by day; what does the dream tell to the waking thought? what does the waking thought tell of the dream? some metaphor for life inhabited your dream; some knowledge passed, wrapped in a metaphor; you only know, that it was watched – by whom?