In everyone’s life there should be some mysterious secret to make their life journey exciting. Otherwise there is no thrill in living it. In my wild imagination I like to transform every night into a falcon bird, flew away through my apartment window when all fell asleep, visit far far away mystical landscapes and return by dawn without anyone’s knowledge like I read in childhood folklores. If I might get these magical skills, I have even gone beyond seven lands and seven oceans to reach the palace of Koshchev-the deathless.
Today early dawn I woke up from deep sleep with a disturbing dream. In the dream I was a child of eight years old and was at home with my father during a rainy night.
My father was sleeping and I noticed the windows were open and it was raining heavily outside. I went to close the windows and noticed someone outside. It was my father’s mentally retarded brother and he has given me a doll through the window and vanished in rain drops. I looked at the doll he hung on my neck , a dirty one.
I have thrown the doll in the rain , and stared at the doll’s wet hair, grabbing the window sills painfully looking at the rain drops.
That image in my strange dream vanished like one on the old television screen and there appeared a bright day , I was in front of huge oak trees.
A butterfly angel whispers my ears that these are trees where Koschei Koi birds build their palace like nests . I have seen in one of the huge trees hollow a nest is gradually forming and a beautiful huge bird is sitting in the nest with two twin baby birds. This amazing vision vanished and I opened my eyes and time was 4’o clock in the morning. Literally I opened my eyes in wonder after seeing the birds, but after a moment my early dream flashed in my mind and made me sad.
In my childhood days I was so empathetic towards my father’s brother, whom everyone else hates. My disturbing childhood memories and cherished folklores creates long dream stories for my longing forties. I never like to have a time machine to go back to childhood or any past moment and eagerly looking for a mysterious future, but memories sometimes in an invisible time machine sending me back in my dreams. Isn’t it nightmares or dreams. Nightmares are also dreams.
Divine Spirit 