Filing my dreams…
In the early morning hour, close to the birds beginning their song, I was dreaming this dream.
In the night, during my dream, I must have pressed my skirt and blouse. My hair was pressed straight. My makeup was nude. My lips were slightly parted, ready to smile and greet the woman whom, I would share an office. The person who would tell me everything I did for hours till shadows filled my journey and I would awake.
There was no standing in the hall outside the door with thin glass, because I do not remember a hall at all. No lettering was on the door. My hand reached for the brass doorknob. I turned it counter clockwise an entered with my right high heel. Her desk was to be the one up against the window, mine to a wall.
Her desk sat bare as the sun began to swiftly climb. She was gone, had cleared her part of the office. A simple sentence filled my head. Open another door and move on.
I turned toward the desk I would never use. No useless telephone calls. No purposeless paper stacks. I was needed somewhere else. I saw another door and glided through.
A young man close to my age in this vision,(as I am much older I thought) greeted me with a warm smile. He spoke no words as he took his hands and showed me his feet. I looked in to his eyes and saw specks of life an happiness. He dressed in dark jeans and an ecru buttonless top.
As I slipped off my shoes, he bowed and urged me to come in with a brush of his arm. His hand extended out to lead the way. This is when I saw her. This was a home I had entered.
She was seated on a cement bench, sipping tea from a hand-painted china cup. One hand gracefully bringing the edge of the cup to her mouth for a sip. The other barely able to hold the saucer. Her slender long body was draped in robes of peach poppies. Yellow,pleasingly placed, in some of the centers.
We were going out to the back of the home. To a large patio with low cement walls. He looked at me. I looked at him. He slowly turned his head to the grounds beyond the walls. The trees were so intriguing, begging me to fill my time with their intricate designs.
If I could only draw, you would not look away. The willows were reaching down. The short trees were growing under the canopies. Their limbs stretching to meet under safe refuge. Entwining together in strength.
The strong desire to go to those trees was interrupted as a young husky lad came from a path along side the walls. He was in a striped red, blue, and yellow shirt and long brown shorts. His cheeks were red and he was looking for a snack before lunch.
As we turned back, I felt the stone under my feet. It was warm in the house and cool when needed in the sun. As the young man with the gentle brown eyes went to prepare our lunch, the man of the house returned to check on his wife.
He proudly introduced himself an asked me to please consider helping him with his ailing wife. Insisting I not return to the desk. He then showed me flowers I had not seen. They had been there all along. I walked right past the huge display. They were on turn tables so she could see their beauty all day.
They at first were my favorite. The many folds of the carnation. Then I noticed on top of the folds, large papery petals. I turned to see her as she began to look down with her large quiet eyes, and smile. The papery petals covering the carnations as though wings.
Then I woke up. I sit here and I wonder about this dream. I used to dream of wandering streets or standing in empty homes. Now I dream of opening doors, of meeting new people. People that need me, but I need them too.