And Sometimes the Dreams Are Strange

Strange dreams woke me. 

Someone gave me a gift and when I used it, it created massive explosions. And destroyed pretty much everything.

I was so shaken by the explosions it was hard to remember the details of the dream. But as the day moved on, I remembered more and more.

Yesterday my mother called me. A strange dream had awakened her. The details were easy for her to recall and she felt compelled to share it. 

When we spoke on the phone today and I told her about my dream, we shared a strange feeling of odd connection. As if the concept of Wyrd had come to life. 

Beauty in the Night: Meditations in the Dark Time of the Year. I don't know if this will be a series, but if there is one in me, this is what I am drawn to thinking about and writing about. 


Photo: (c) 2017 Katherine Cartwright. All rights reserved.