Dreaming about Poeting
May 24, 2009 § 3 Comments
I’m traveling this weekend and out of my usual bed. So I was able to check the glowing fuzzy clock at 1:30, 2:30, 3:30… until about 6am, when I dropped into an unexpected cavern of relaxation. Just before, I’d been thinking about a poem I’d read recently: B.H. Fairchild’s On the Waterfront. Mr. Fairchild moved me in and out of time, using invisible stitching to bind together the present, past and future.
Dreaming then, I wove several poems, noticing the colors and weaves, the people and themes, moving in and out of time. It was a lucid dream; I remember thinking I needed to wake and make notes so I wouldn’t lose my creations.
Well, you guessed it – my insomnia won and pulled me deeper into sleep and my need for rest overrode the fragile creations.
I wish I’d taken the time to rise and make some notes. Even if they were indecipherable later, I would have honored the births. Like feral cats, the more I feed them, the more they come around.
I think I’ll start keeping a pen and pad by the bed.