Dreamed 1986/9/7 by Wayan
A spirit bird, heron-tall,
visits now and then.
Days now my teacher's gone.
I worry; no one's seen.
Query Don the maintenance man.
Skeptical, I test it--slip
Time. But balks at now; just shows
An image flashes white gold tan
terrible as Man. Devour
Dusty-rose, indigo and
I do cycle from heron to cave-bear-Bigfoot to heron, from social to call-of-the-wild to social. After too many days around (shiver) humans, I go wild for silence and space. My dreams are cyclic too--a week or two of great recall and clear advice, then a week of dreamnesia. Maybe the lost dreams (I still dream, I feel them, but they evade me) are Bigfoot dreams--they want time off, unwatched! Or deeper than want: need. What if the dreamworker's ideal of perfect recall, perfect interpretation (and for lucid dreamers, perfect control) is like banishing solitude, or sleep... or night?
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