Thursday, 6 June 2013

No sign of the thing yet, but I'm confident it will come back.

I fell asleep with the prehistoric tool in my hand; then I was on the tundra, by the fire. Holding a burnt stick, the old woman faced me over a pile of ashes. She began to speak, and as she did, she drew, and the pictures became part of the dream. Here's what I remember:

In the beginning, all was water. The land was water, and the sky was water, and the plants were water, and the animals were water, and the men were water. Water was everything, so water was nothing. Fox and Snake grew tired of being water. They wanted to hunt. So Fox made his tail the sky, and Snake made his skin the land. Now, there was sky and land, and the plants and animals didn't want to be water, and they changed, and became what they are. The sky and land grew full, and Fox and Snake sent some plants and some animals back to the water. That is why the sea hates the sky and the land. Because once, the things of the sea lived in the sunshine, and flew through the air, and ran on the hot ground. But now they lurk in the cold and the dark, waiting.

The dream was vivid, and I saw Fox's tail become the sky at sunrise, saw Snake's skin become the cracked earth of the tundra.

I woke up tired. These dreams make me feel like I haven't slept at all.

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