The Calling Dream


Every night as the dawn comes up across the globe, I wake at your dawn.  Waiting for your call, I return to slumber, focussing a moment later, I remember the calling dream which came whilst I was sleeping.  It started with those three sailing boats on Christmas Day, then within minutes time had spun and there were hundreds of sailing yachts each on their own water ripple riding across Lyme Bay.  I was walking now on ‘Sculpture Island’, the ‘Gravity Terrain’ was gone, dissolved in a night and the reservoir of tears washed away.  That dream you sent, washed me onto the beach of a new terrain, my opening eyes saw the shifting bright clouds swirling in the bright light, sitting up, I saw it steady and I realised that my new Sculpture Island was a floating mass of rhizome yellow irises bundled together, a pontoon floating raft.  I smiled happy in the bright creative light.  Yes I had taken your call, whilst sleeping.

Taken from ‘Sculpture Island’ by Lynda Connolly.

All content and images Copyright © 2019 Lynda Connolly

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