a dream

a dream

I see it in my dreams, in the perisphere of my mind, when the mist lifts I see it so clearly; there by the glistening water edge, the lulling crashes of the waves against the shore a bright, sunny day. Against the lit horizon lies a little house, alone and pensive turned towards the sun.

And then I spot figures nearby; a young woman standing by the shore and a small dog playing beside her. It comes towards her, wagging its tail and she laughs, a pearly sound that echoes in my mind, as she bends down to pick up a stick, wrestles playfully with the dog a bit and makes it fetch the stick. She shades her eyes to watch the dog run along the beach, then picks up a couple of stones and tosses them into the calm sea, watching them skip happily across the surface. I cannot see her face, I am too far away and the sun is in my eyes, but her features seem somehow familiar to me. She must be about my age.

Then – as if she sense a presence behind her – she turns and spots me as had I corporeal form and waves with a familiarity that surprises me.

As I move closer I see for the first time that the young woman is me, smiling and waving, content and happy, calling for the dog and walking into the house. A record is playing old time blues, the smell of pastry and coffee excude through the open door to a rustic, cozy interior. The presence of a kindred spirit nearby, the dog or another person or even the ghost of myself – I cannot be sure – but even loneliness does not seem troubled here. Only contentment and a life worth dreaming about is present. The crashing of the waves, the fresh salt in the air, the happy barks of the dog, the sun on my face.

It seems too good to be true and yet, so possible. I wonder if this idyllic picture is disturbed in times of storm; the harsh wind and darkened sky, thunder rolling and sand whipping against the walls of the house, frightening its inmates, but then the record is changed from inside the house and a soothing trumpet plays a quiet jazz number as the dog returns with a happy, sated attitude, sand in its fur, and lies down on the veranda to soak in the sun. I see myself emerging with a cup of steaming coffee and a plate of food, settling down in a chair beside the dog and relax in the sun, the sound of the waves and music from within the house fusing with each other. I see how such storms are overcome and I cannot help smiling, the silent storm within stilling.

Yes, this is the life for me, I realize, as tears form in my eyes. I see myself so clearly – there is no doubt. A hope of this possibility is all I ask for. Is all I dream about.

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