DIRECT DREAM TRANSCRIPTION OF A WOMAN AWAKENING IN A MORNING MEADOW*
For Jennifer
c 1995 Tristan Winter
She opened her eyes and felt more than saw the sky. Eyes kissed by luminous grey, she felt each molecule of water in the atmosphere surrounding her. Each miraculous mote of hydrogen singing by touched her face, her arms, her hands outstretched in wonder; laughing and darting sharp joy into her open fingertips; every immeasurably tiny drop beating off her skin carried the single bead of light allotted to it for this one and only moment. Each and every dart vibrated as it ran, open armed, into her open arms, with the light, love and light, allotted to it for this one and only moment. Wake up, she said aloud in a kind of ecstatic wonder; eyes dear and bright, sweet sudden skin and wholeness, a deep single gasp of delight at the invisible rain covering her with sky-kiss. Wake up, she said. It could have been the very first time.
*NB: This is the unaltered narrative I heard spoken in a dream. Most usually, it was a voice only. No visuals at all, yet the words brought perfect sensory associations as they individually and phrasally rolled forth.