The blessing bowl and the fear XXXVIII

Door San Daniel gepubliceerd in Verhalen en Poëzie

 The night light above our bed turned on and my wife looked at me in shock, 'what's wrong,' she asked. "The totem," I stammered, "the raven wanted to eat my guts." "Shh, you silly boy" said my sweetheart, "it was just a dream. Look, you're with me, there's no raven here." I returned to my own world and the images that had frightened me so much faded. "The lake is evil," I said at last, "you shouldn't go in there." "What do you know about my dream," asked my love sharply. "I saw you," I said, "and I couldn't help you and they want to prop me up as a watchman." "Calm down, my love," said my sweety, "I think we should have a cup of tea and then go back to sleep."

I calmed down and got out of bed and then saw that my toe was scraped where I had bumped it and I knew that it was always in and always out unless everything is in phase and then the living could become dead and the dead alive and I knew what to do. "If it helps," said my sweetheart a little later over a cup of tea, "tell me what frightened you."

 

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"Oh well," I said, "about Indians beating the drums and stuff like that and about a lake with a giant snake swimming towards you and I felt helpless." "Dreams of impotence," said my sweetheart, "indicate problems that are on your mind and that you may or may not be able to solve." I nodded wisely, but I knew how I would solve my problem, otherwise I would have my guts pecked out and be placed in my niche and my love would stay out and suffer forever through my fault. "The bowl," I thought, "no matter how, I got to get hold of that bowl and it'll go at the intersection and then it is all behind me."

"You know, you talked too much to Barry about Indians and stuff," said my sweety, "and then you get that, you translate what you've heard into dreams or images." I took a sip of tea and thought about it. But it had been real, my toe was scraped and the blue light had blinded me. "I think you're right," I replied, "what were you and Clarene talking about? "Also about Indians," laughed my dear, "actually about Little Bighorn, Old Rock's grandfather who often accompanied her husband as a guide."

"He's chief and shaman," she added, "the Indians believe he can travel between the realm of the dead and the living." "He's working on a religious Powwow of sorts tomorrow to honor Old Rock and request that he won't leave the tribe." But he's dead, "I said," it wasn't a pretty sight, he was crushed under the wheel of a truck. " "Look, listen up," said my wife, "I don't know either, except that Barry will go there tomorrow to show his respect for his hunting friend." I let that sink in for a moment. "It's kind of a wake," my wife added, "and the tribesmen believe Little Bighorn has the power to enter both worlds in mind and spirit."

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"You know," I said, "I'm going to ask Barry if I can go with him, I've seen the accident happen, and then I'm helping to say goodbye." "If you think you should do that, then do it," said my dear and drank her last sip of tea, ""but I am definitely not going along, I don't like that kind of thing, you know, reviving of the dead."

"Thank you for the tea, I'm feeling a lot better again," I said, and my wife gave me her sweetest smile and said, "I'm going to turn in, are you coming too?" "Sure," I replied, "where else would I go," and somewhere far away I saw the niche that had been reserved for me.

"That wasn't half bad, dumbo" spoke the gravel voice. "Do you still believe in coincidences?'

San Daniel 2020

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19/03/2020 21:51

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