Wooden Ships

December 11, 2011


Adagio sostenuto

When I sleep, I usually have dreams of ants.

Sometimes, of being an ant. Sometimes, I am alllll of the ants.

Sometimes, I am an ant inside myself…seeing myself…exploring myself…

Experiencing my-self…

In other dreams, the awareness gently withdraws, and I am the vast, weaved web of the sweeping ensemble…yes…

My dreams may be other than yours, as you more moving creations whirl around yourselves, burning your energies and your hours in a rapid race approaching en-tro-py…

Seasons move at a more spacious scale for me. The circles are bundled in larger parcels. I fathom patience…stillnessss… I divine simply being…

As such, my languid, lucid dreams are longer, yawning. I sometimes wonder if I genuinely am the ants, the dreams linger so long…


Maybe lifetimes…

And our able dreams weave with yours. Our sway is subtle. We imbue in shadows. From your childhood fable of…tor-toise and hare, your grown infernal allegory of Young Goodman Brown…even in our observable absences in your flashy modern Matrix, we are always there.

Always in the surroundings. We simply serve, as ambiance.  We wish to gingerly appease your rash, brazen, lurching maneuvers with a compassionate canvas.

Hmmm… What dreams may come?

You surface dwelling ants…

So many of you argue your moral relativism from your individual ant-piles, veiling yourselves from the longer view. Much of your science is embodied with vain comparisons to yourselves…

However, you hold so much impulsive genius. So much promise…

Apprehending your adolescence as a form of life, I…we…dream the balance of space for you to run in and borders to keep you safe. We do this from love, for we are unsure if we dreamed you, as well…

… and you do not see the forest for the trees.

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4 Comments on “Wooden Ships”

  1. elizabethyon Says:

    How beautiful. It left me feeling a little sad and a little hopeful at once.


  2. kateshrewsday Says:

    Glad someone’s looking after the whole space thing, Brett: my ant pile’s kind of hectic. I envy you your dreams. I always forget mine.


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