I’m standing on a deep green meadow, hills bouncing up and down around me, and the grass is the wings of tiny insects. They move in complete unison as if gentle winds softly caress my valley. Perched on the top of a hill 200 meters and one second away is a bright red wooden cabin. It was built of a single tree, its roots still planted in the soft earth. Pink bubblegum clouds drift from the tile chimney. Child versions of savannah animals are stuck in each bubble. A purple and green giraffe. A lion cub ripping the flesh of a manicured hand. An elephant with a head too big for its body half lies, half stands as it floats towards a pixelated baby-blue sky.
Framed in bone-white borders on both sides of a locked door hangs the iris of a snake and a wolf. They remain completely still, focused on the horizon. And like renaissance paintings they follow my every move.
On the door is a sigil. A face-less snake slithering around a cane. The mark of healing.
I’m inside the cabin. I see with the eyes of a wolf hunting a rabbit through Scandinavian winter. We kick up fresh powder as we race by ancient trees. I perform magnificent acrobatic leaps over rotten logs of wood, not possible with merely two feet. The blood is warm and the flesh is salt. The rabbit is still twitching in my gums.
I see with the eyes of a snake. Level-ground, slithering, my body is one muscle propelling me forward. I swallow a mouse whole. Fat and content I bask in the sun of an African desert.
I see with the eyes of a man. And there is clarity. And there is intellect. And there is no fierce joy in hunt and no acrobatic pleasures. I am connected with my mind. I am aware. I am fat and I feel a thousand eyes judging me. I have distinguished myself and I hate every piece of clothing I own. I am the most powerful animal on Earth and I fear my own pack.
Outside the cabin the wings of the grass has started to beat outside of harmony. Each pair of wings has found their own rhythm. Some flutter sporadically, others try furiously to separate themselves from the invisible glue of the ground. The meadow is now a storming sea. The baby-blue sky has gone pitch-black and the bubblegum clouds are burst by white-hot lightning. Fairytale animals rain over a raging ocean of individual choice.
How do you explain a dream?
