Tomblin’s Dream

Israfil,Felipe Escobar.jpg

Yes Tomblin
Tell me of your dreams
that I may come to know the landscapes inside you

She said
“Sleep never comes easy for me
My dreams are. . .
so lucid I can’t tell them from Reality
Touch, taste, smell and color
It’s all so real
More real than you and me”

You have always been a dreamer. . .
Focus in in this particular dream

She lifts her cup of Earl Grey
Leans back into the chair cushion
“I am swimming in a lake in the Appalachian mountains
The water is clean but you can’t see more than a foot or two under the water
And there is something moving down there
Something murky
Some kind of machine
Painted white but grey in the waters
Lots of Euclidean shapes and industrial textures
It’s moving but never seems to break the surface

And I don’t know if I should run for shore
but i stay
cause its so creepy to watch
It does not move to touch me
but if I go to the left it turns to face me

I see my shadow rippled as it falls below the surface
The light in the world is changing
Becoming a different color
Kinda sepia

I look up to see the light
and there is the whole Universe
Or is it a man shape?
It’s a night sky full of stars in the shape of a man
and all I can see of is face
are his eyes
The Sun, the Moon, the Stars
all the galaxies and nebulae and black holes. . .
they’re all there

And his hand
I want to run to get out of the water
because his hand is reaching for me

I am no more than a doll
no more than an atom in that hand
And yet
he is reaching down through the sky
Through the horizon

I try to scream
the way women scream in dreams
but I have no mouth
I am paralyzed. . .

And then I wake up”


photo credits: Israfil by Felipe Escobar

Published by

Chyfrin the Celtic poet

Artist, Poet, Electrical/Biomedical Engineer, Actor, Playwright, Set construction, Educator, Lover of womankind and single malt scotch

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