I’ll tell you the story, but don’t ask why ’cause I haven’t a clue. Now that I have been sleeping deeply due to the yoga, I dream a lot all night long. I found that if I could remember just a bit of the dream if I wake up to use the bathroom, when I lay back down, all I have to do is re-immerse myself back into the dream, and I easily fall right back into a deep sleep. I like dreaming, because I read that your dreams are your mind working out your problems and difficulties without you consciously interfering.
Well, all of that happened last night, but the unusual part was that all my dreams, even after I got up and went back to sleep, were centered around writing a small poem. I remember going over and over it, readjusting the words and syllables. The best thing was that I remembered it this morning. Here it is, written in my dreams, literally:
Promises
In a heaping pile
Edges so sharp they cut like glass
Broken
I kind of liked it, so I thought I’d share.
And so, as another day goes by, I love my dreams, and…I have written.
What great imagery. I like it, too.
Peace,
Diane