Art and the philosophy of life

Archive for the ‘Dream’ Category

Wild Horses…a poem

Horses, Galloping, Running, Stallions

wild horses
race through my dreams
kicking up dust
their manes flying
wet on their backs
the sound of their
pounding like thunder
in my ears
as they
remind me
to stay free



Poto:  Pixabay

Dream Rider, a short story

“Uh, who are you?” he asked.  “Better yet, what are you?”

“Which is it? Who? Or what?”

“What,” he said.  “What are you and why are you here?”

‘I’m a Dream Rider, and this looked like an interesting dream.”

“You’re in my dream?”

“Do you feel awake?” he asked.  “Is this a place you would be, if you were awake?”

He thought for a moment, looked around and said, “This kind of looks like Gringotts, from Harry Potter.”

“I think that might have been your destination, but this isn’t Gringotts.”

“Why would I look for Gringotts?” he asked, rubbing his nose.

“No idea,” said the Rider.  “Lots of people dream about Harry Potter, but they’re usually kids.”

“I seem to dream about, The Lord of the Rings.”

“I know,” said the Rider. “I’ve been in some of those dreams.”

“You have?”

“Pretty boring, actually, you don’t have a flare for the dramatic.  Maybe you should stick with things less magical.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, something dull and low budget.”

“I think you should leave now.”

“I’m just trying to help,” said the Rider.  “Don’t try action dreams, or dreams where there are heroes, because you really won’t be happy in those.  Unless you want to be one of the unknown characters that gets eaten by a monster, or…”

“I get it!” he said.

“Maybe you could be the butler in a mystery dream.  A butler that isn’t the murderer.”

“Maybe you could get lost.”

“You could try harder, you know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You could be a hero if you weren’t so afraid of everything.”

“I’m NOT afraid.”

“Okay.  If you say so,” he mumbled, turning his horse around.

“Where did the horse come from?”

“The horse came from where dreams come from.  Everything comes from there.”

“Where is there?”

There, is inside everyone, and everything.  The Dream place is in each things thoughts.  There are daydreams and night dreams and in between dreams.  What you think of as reality, is just a collective dream.”

“I think I’m waking up,” he said, stretching.  “I also think I believe you.”

“If you dream of something fun, or exciting, I’ll come back and we can talk some more.”

He nodded and rolled to his side.  Then he opened his eyes and took a good look at the dream he was waking up to.


Photo:  Ekrulila





of soft caresses
and hugs
good food
and a soft bed
of running free
of hearing laughter
and your name
called by
someone you love



Photo:  Fabian Gieske

Okay, so…

I’ve had two reoccurring dreams in my life.  One is horrific and the other one is this…

I’m standing on a hill holding my mother’s hand.  It really is my mother.  I’m about six.  She’s wearing a plain cotton printed “house dress,” like the one’s they wore in the 40s, I think.  I don’t know what I’m wearing.  We are staring out over the land, which is all jagged black glass.

My mother is a scientist.  The only people alive are scientists.  I can see the building we all live in, from the hill.  The sky is thick dirty orange.  We never see the sun or what was once, so I’ve been told, a blue sky.

She is thinking.  I am quiet.

Children are born to become scientists, and continue the work.  There is no childhood, there is only the work.

All I can see in the dream,  is the black glass, and the weird light from the dome, far down the hill.

I know my mother, as well as the others, is trying to find ways to bring the earth back to life, even in the smallest way.  Some of the scientists were prepared for the “Event,” they warned everyone about years ago.  That’s why we have food…seeds from the seed bank…as well as everything else in the building.

I am going to be the kind of scientist my mother is.

The entire dream consisted of us standing on the hill holding hands, looking at the jagged black glass.  But there was a breeze, because her hair and her dress were moving.  She wasn’t wearing a coat, and she didn’t seem cold, so it must have been warm.

We just stood there.  I’m not sure she even knew she was holding on to me, she was so lost in thought and what if’s.


My grandson called me on his way home from work, just now, and he asked me if I had seen, or heard, the latest climate change report…that it’s too late, and the water will keep rising and he kept talking…but just like that…

I was back in the dream….standing on the glass hill, holding my mother’s hand.


Fire Eater…

I might have wanted to be a lot of things during my life, but I can honestly say that FIRE EATER, was never one of them.  Nope.  It never crossed my mind.  Maybe if I got my wish and turned into a dragon…but that never happened, so…


Photo:  Cameron Venti

Some people have big dreams, even if they may need some editing…

Hitchhiking Astronaut

Photo:  Tom Leishman


woman in black and white long sleeve dress sitting on black and white bed

Photo:  mali desha


Street art…Dreams

black and white woman portrait

Photo:  HannahMiddleton

Sleep…a poem

and dream
of beautiful things
for soon
the real world
will push it’s way into
your life
and the clouds
will no longer speak to you
and the unicorns
and angels
will be replaced
with video games
and war
as you struggle
to remember
all that was beautiful
before you
came here


Photo:  AdeleMorrisPhotography

Dreams…a poem

Under Water, Fashion, Woman, Underwater

tell me your dreams
don’t leave anything out
give me all the details
and I’ll wrap them
in clouds
tie them up
with sun beams
and keep them safe
they’re ready
to come true


Picture:  Pixabay

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