Horses

Emmylou dreamed of beautiful grey horses running, six of them running across a dawn field. There was a murmuring music that gave the whole scene a clear consistent rhythm. The drumming of hooves and music like water over stones as the horses shifted positions in their steady progress in a weaving dance. They came to sudden curves and moved as one to shift into the center of a broad path. She was not one of the horses but her mind was guiding them some how to find the right pattern and path.

Masses of ominous dark clouds loomed in the distance and thunder rolled like timpani along with steady rhythm of horses hooves coming closer and louder. They were all coming here to do something, to complete something. She was a part but somehow not involved, an audience with limited participation for a show as big as the earth. She felt the immensity of the horses their mighty bodies pounding down the earth yet leaving no trace as they passed.

She woke expecting to hear the drumbeat of hooves, but the night was oppressively still and the room seemed confining after the expansive space of the dream.

She sighed and snuggled down into a more comfortable position and immediately fell into sleep.

The coffee shop of enlightenment

The coffee shop was bustling around Rod and Essie, dishes clanked and orders flew, the cash register chinged and rattled open and zipped closed, people greeted each other and said “have a good day” and off they went. None of this penetrated the bubble of intense space around the two in their booth. The waitress took their order and brought it without intrusion. All was suspended inside the conversation and hum and hubbub around them  broke like waves around a glass wall.