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...to excite memories is beyond
me. I am induced in sleep or waking hours, to let my mind wonder back to veritable
yesteryear's, while the sky is crying.
The past, in it's varied forms, can be mine or imagined. It can be what
was or what was wished, in one beautiful scene. Sometimes its nothing I recognize at all,
but seems to be the past I had. Bits and pieces I recognize intermingled with what my mind
tells me to make me happy.
In last nights dream I was reunited with a wonderful Japanese woman from
my elementary school years. In the dream we were madly in love at a young age and through
the passage of time, wear and tear... I had somehow forgotten about her. In the dream, I
was going through some boxes of my belongings. They were items from my youth, I had not
seen in many years. I saw things I recognized.
As a child I loved to collect old padlocks, a seemingly odd thing to
collect. I had a drawer in my desk I called my junk drawer. In it were many wonderful and
valuable things that had no other home. Small toys, prizes from Cracker Jack and Cereal
Boxes, incense, pieces of paper with secrets scrawled on them, and many small items that
only I knew the value of. To adult eyes, a collection of little or no value, but to me; a
vault of treasures I had collected on my many excursions.
In my dream, I came upon several of the items from my junk drawer. They
had not devalued since childhood. That cheap souvenir knife with the plastic sheath from
Ohio Caverns still has every potential to save my life in a survivalist situation. Those
old padlocks that once guaranteed the safety of the entire palace are still just as sturdy
and capable of providing nay say to intruders. Finally, these love letters and pictures
written in the most pure of forms, still hold dear, all the initial essences of true love.
And in the dream while reliving a secret impossible long distance love, she appears before
me to collect upon years of pining. She is a vision of unfettered beauty, pure of heart
and strength of soul. She possesses my mere being at a level I've forgotten I ever had.
And she loves me in ways, I have never experienced in my adult life. She speaks to me in
volumes but few words. Our communication is more visual and concise than the muttering of
inadequate words.
She reminds me of the love we had at that tender unknowing age. She
reminds me of the letters we wrote to each other in the bold language of innocence. She
plays the song that signifies our invisible bond and she reminds me that she has always
been there. She was there when I had forgotten about her completely. She was there when I
was on the other side of complete misery. She was there when I thought I loved other women
and she was there when they abandoned me. She is here now. My childhood dream of
everything a perfect lifelong mate should be is standing in front of me. She is here
waiting for me to become one with her. As we have always been and as we never have been.
The time is now to engage my own past. The rain has washed away what is
wrong and made me pure again.
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