“Do NOT wake her!” Somewhere far off I hear this vaguely familiar voice. Then footsteps receding, and a click of the door, closing.
And then slowly – which is the way consciousness always catches up with me – I become aware that a recurring dream has been playing on my inner eyelids. Maybe it’s the only dream I’ve ever dreamed. Alone downtown. Walking in the evening, I begin to notice that the buildings are disconnecting. Pulling apart like taffy. The physical world is coming unhinged and a crazy white light is streaming in through the cracks. And when I look up, I see that the stars are just pin pricks in a purple velvet fabric that holds back the light.
When I wake, I lie there perfectly still for a moment, staring at the tall ceiling and drinking in the peculiar sensation that remains. Is it longing? Yes, and wonder. That I’ve been let in on such a big secret. Maybe the first to know that all throughout our busy days, just beyond this material world, we are completely and perfectly engulfed in light.
I hear little padded feet scampering down the hall again and smell the bacon frying. Shadows flit across the wall, light chasing away the darkness. And I smile, so utterly grateful for Saturday.