Potent Dreams

written: April 11th

I hate those dreams that are more than dreams.  Ones so powerful that they stay with you days after they occurred.  And you turn them over and over in your mind, looking at each facet of the dream, because you know in your bones that this is important.

And you crave nothing more than to eloquently capture it in words so you can remember it forever.  And yet, when you put pen to paper or fingers to keys, it all turns to smoke and become amorphous.  It changes and morphs, so you don't know where to start writing.  And yet...the second you walk away from the keyboard or put down the pen, it all comes crashing back upon you, like a great typhoon wave.  Drowning you and sucking you in and filling you to the brim with memories of it.

I had a dream that fits all of this.  And I want nothing more than to write it down and see if I can understand what exactly it's trying to tell me.  Dream interpretation has never been a strong gift of mine.  Mostly I just recall how it made me feel.  But I have little idea what it means.  I want to write it down, to get someone else to interpret it for me, but the words just flit away.  I sit down and all of it turns to smoke and I can't grasp it to save my life.

And this dream was a doozy of a dream.  Initiation.  A witch gathering of the thousands.  Meeting the Witch Queen herself (maybe a deity instead?).  Wolves and snow leopards.  Ancestors.  Black hooded jerkins -- which is how I know how potent this dream is.  I woke up and immediately began looking for what it was that I was wearing in the dream.  The closest I could come was a hooded jerkin -- I called it a red-neck robe in my dream because of it being mostly sleeveless.  ::laughs::  But once I found what it is called in our world, I wanted to purchase one so bad.  I still may buy one, but can't right now.  But I really want that tactile reminder of my dream.