Tag: dreams

Head Transplants: Decisions, Decisions 

Recently right before bedtime I read an article on Facebook about a surgeon who believes that within the next two years he will be able to perform head transplants.

Well, bully for him! I tried in vain to figure why anyone would need a head transplant, but it just didn’t make sense. Maybe if some poor soul had a decapitating injury and by chance his body was kept viable and another poor schmuck found his torso ripped to shreds yet his head was intact a surgeon could put the head with the torso and voilá! Frankenperson!

I read parts of the article to Studly and we brainstormed ways in which it might work. Then I went to bed and the topic entered my dreams for an epic, ethical nightmare:

Three children, two boys and one girl each suffering from an incurable head-eating disease. All will die within 24 hours if a new head isn’t found to replace their defective ones. One head becomes available. It is compatible with each of the three children who all went on the transplant list at the same time. I have to decide who gets the head.

I awakened in a cold sweat and I have no idea who got the head. 

That’ll teach me to stay online too close to bedtime.

Peace, people.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

When our first son was very young, perhaps not yet two, he and I were snuggled under the covers on a cold, snowy morning. Studly Doright had left for work, so little Doright and I were catching a few precious zzzz’s.

As we basked in that delicious laziness that comes with sleeping in, little Doright asked sleepily, “Mommy, who is that man?”

I said, “What man, sweetie?”

“That one, Mommy, in the curtains.”

I saw nothing, but my heartbeat sped up just the same. Who knows who or what little Doright saw.

On another occasion I awakened from a nightmare in which Studly was chasing little Doright and me with a knife. I’d just finished reading Stephen King’s The Shining, so that dream was something of a logical consequence. However, from his crib in the room next to ours I heard little Doright crying, “Daddy, don’t hurt us! Daddy stop!”

Whoa! That was a surreal moment! Written in response to The Daily Post’s Daily Prompt.

Three Doors, One Choice

Today’s prompt from The Daily Post: You’re having a nightmare, and must choose between three doors. Pick one and tell what you find on the other side.

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In darkness I navigate the narrow maze.
Behind me I hear the labored breathing
Of an unknown predator. I cannot stop.

Two left turns, hands pressed flat against
Rough walls of stone. Abruptly stumbling
I find myself facing three towering doors.

Slim candles in sconces flicker, offering
Little clue as to which door provides for
My salvation from the rampaging beast.

Door one is painted red. The deep, hue
Of blood. Orange flames shoot across a
Wooden lintel, daring me to cross below.

Angels grace the second door accented
Against an aerial array of cumulonimbus
Clouds in a sky of heavenly aquamarine.

As the beast draws near I observe the third
Door. Ancient and carved with Celtic runes
Beckoning me to throw caution to the gods.

The choice seems simple: Forsake doors one
And three. Door two seemed a haven, but then
Out of darkness roared an unearthly demon.

With some hesitation I step inside the door
Most mysteriously carved. Fevered drumming
Was my reward. The third door held strong.

Otherworldly chanting to the steady beat of a
Bodhran reverberates within my chest, pulls me
Onward relentlessly toward the echoing sound.

An ethereal luminescence illuminates my steps
Into a forest populated entirely by wee folks
Who gently guide me into a circle enchanted.

A faerie dressed in finest silks alights beside me
And gracefully bids me sit within the mystical
Ring. A guest of honor for their celebratory meal.

“What brings you here?” Faerie asks. I feel certain
She reigns as deva within this forest primeval.
“A beast chased me into your realm,” I explain.

“Three doors you had from which to choose: One
Hell, another Heaven, yet you selected the third.
It isn’t often that mortals wager their lives on us.”

“I had little time to decide my fate with a monster
Close behind. Hell I rejected. Heaven seemed too
Safe. I could not resist the call of the unknown.”

Then we danced and drank far into the night. The
Faerie folk sang songs that resonated in the very
Depths of my soul. My heart expanded with love.

I awakened with tears on my cheeks and a smile
Teasing the corners of my lips. A lovely dream
Born from a nightmare. Beauty from the beast.

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Wildest Dreams

I wrote this in response to a prompt from a Facebook friend. It occurred to me that the wildest dreams from my younger days–marrying a Beatle, performing at Carnegie Hall doing God knows what, traveling to exotic places–no longer were on my dream radar.

Wildest Dreams

Sailing ‘cross oceans
Weathering storms
Standing ovations
Those were the norms
Dreams I once had
Some fulfilled
Some forgotten
Far better for certain
Than some that were not.

Wildest dreams of my
Younger self somehow
Don’t jibe
With the dreams I have now
To more than survive
To thrive and discover the
Person within under the
Protective covers of those
Who love me.

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Beautiful Dream(er)

I awakened this morning from such a beautiful dream. It was one of those lovely, happy, super realistic visions that crosses the dream boundary. In it my mom and I were sitting at the kitchen table discussing our plans for the day. I told her I thought I’d go shopping and asked if she wanted to tag along.

“Just let me get dressed!” she said.

Then I woke up, looking forward to a day of shopping with Mom. 😢 I went shopping anyway and pretended she was right there helping me make decisions.

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No Rest

I woke up this morning

In a mess of confusion

No rest for the wicked

The righteous can wait.

Dreams I’ve been dreaming

Don’t stop when I’m waking,

I only know sweetness

When I’m not feeling pain.

And I swear

There is hope

Sweet, sweet love

All around me.

The evidence abounds

In the kindness we do.

So why the confusion?

Why all the great worry?

Sweet salvation awaits

Just step out in the rain.

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