In my dreams, I am a protector

Imaginative dream

The dark night creeps around the bamboo torches. The light flames flicker off the coarse, deciduous flora. Some sleep on the ground. Some sit and talk. Some run and play. It is a light atmosphere. And I float. I am not really here. This is the pattern in so many dreams, I recall. I mingle in and out of conversations not my own. I watch heroes and heroines venture forth into impossible situations. I usually just watch from afar as my mind's kaleidoscope churns and creates vivid epics.

But tonight is different. A darkness masses on the corner of light. It  creeps in and builds high. I can feel a tsunami ready to hit. And suddenly there is a swarm about. Pandemonium! And I sit and watch still as those under me suffer at its wrath. But something is rising. It comes from deep within, and trickles to the surface.

In a moment, I am not such a passive spirit. I am standing on the ground.

"What do you want from these people? Why are you here? Why do want to cause such pain?" I ask.

The voice responds that it is trying to rid the world of hate, of anger, of mindless lust and of all the idiocy that comes from existence. I reason with it, but it will have none of it. And the clash resumes. The black mass swirls and masses in a place consuming whatever is there. It leaves behind a void. And as I watch, my fury grows. For this is a dream and my world.

And now beside me is a great bear. I feel it tear into the darkness. I feel a primal fear, a primal anger as it attacks. It thrashes at the cloud. Using its mass, it barrels a tunnel through the mass and disappears. And I slowly walk towards it.


The bear lies on the ground. Its body moves in a slow rhythm as giant breathes flow in and out of its mighty lungs. I kneel beside the bear and place one hand down on it. I am crying now. And again, I begin to speak to the mass, and it responds.

"You do not understand the beauty of all that is ugly," I speak in a calm tone, tears silently sliding down my cheeks. "For where in any existence is there ever beauty when not compared to the ugly. And of course the ugliness is easy and the beauty is hard. And of course, I watch as some slide deeper and deeper into the ugly nature. But they can still return. They can, at any moment, achieve their best. I once fell into moments of that ugly nature. And I returned."

The cloud stops. It reverts into a single being. And it speaks.

"I am glad you found your way back to beauty. But hope alone will not destroy me."


~ This dream did not disappear like most. I must come back and analyze this. Funny, the effects of wine and a solid, quiet night.