The Dream


I don’t know how I got there, but I found myself on a dirt road with traveling companions I did not know, yet we were talking as if we had known each other all of our lives.  I remember there were six of us, all told, walking down this dirt road under an overcast sky.  There was a stiff breeze blowing in our faces as we walked and talked about things I cannot remember.

We walked past an asylum, which, at first, seemed abandoned with the yard overgrown, the fence rusted, no sounds came from the place.  We saw no faces… first.  Then we saw the grey silhouettes begin to take shape in the windows, white faces in unkempt gowns, hair awry, hands pressed with the faces against the windows.  There was still no sound.  It was as if these faces found us to be a curiosity and just wanted to watch us.  Every once in a while a face would mouth a word or a cry, but no sound was made.  We pressed on with our journey to who knows where or why.

I awoke briefly to turn over, and found I was drenched with sweat, as were my bed clothes.  Honestly, I cared not.  I was parched, so I got a drink of water and fell back in bed, soundly asleep once again.  This time we were in some sort of cathedral.  There were wooden folding chairs of dark strong wood lined up in front of a polished marble wall with an intricate design.

The wall

I was informed that I was to pray.  My traveling companions seem to have disappeared during my trudge to get a glass of water, but I was joined with others who seemed to be family members of mine or some sort of intimates.  I found a kneeling bench before the wall and knelt down to pray.  I don’t remember what I said, but I remember looking up at the intricate design and noticed a sphere floating up with my prayer.  It would almost reach the center, where it seemed to be drawn to be expelled, but my prayers weren’t enough.  There was a priest dressed in black with a purple stole emblazoned with the Lutheran Rose who kept telling me I wasn’t praying strong enough.

Yet no matter the invocation, incantation, supplication, nothing was powerful enough to raise the sphere to the point it needed to be.  By the time my alarm resounded, I was exhausted, drenched once again in sweat, and perplexed as to what all this meant!  Quite unsettling that!  Yet I cannot shake the impression that this was some sort of message which I need to understand.

I am at a loss!


4 Replies to “The Dream”

  1. I don’t know if this is something you may find completely useless, but sometimes when I have disturbing dreams or dreams that seem odd to me I google what they could mean – sometimes I find it completely rubbish but other times it makes me reflect on things that are currently going on or things that have happened in the past! Trying to make sense of dreams is an odd thing and sometimes dreams linger with us until we can make sense of them!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. An interesting dream. I’m not a dream interpreter but maybe you should have sung your favorite song to rise up the sphere. I’m telling you because singing is a kind of pray too, I mean, who knows…


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