This is the home of Sleeping in the Meadows.

"Surreal and poetic reflections on life and imagination... told in 3rd person through the dreams and adventures of two beings, Sa and Atee." 

Sunday, November 16

Number Sixty Seven

Sa would roam and welcome the new world. Welcome the friends, the smiles, the songs and the tranquility.

He could still close one eye in a dream and feel out of place. He was almost somewhere he was not, looking out of one eye.

He wanted to be at a beach and he wanted to be a guest to a festival. And he was, just by the dream. And just by the dream, he was feeling the rain trickle. And just by the dream, he could smile with the rest of his new friends with the lovely rainbow connecting them to Heaven.

Sa knew that outside his dream, the rainbow was still spreading beauty. And outside the dream, time would still pause when it was asked to. When two eyes connected for the first time, time would pause. And when they connected for the last time, time would pause and the tears would stop for just a moment.

Sometimes when the world looked too small, space would reveal another secret. Just so that nobody would have to fear discovering it all. So that they could absorb the nightscape and be touched by a star.

And maybe the star would drop into their pockets and maybe a light would brighten up their life. And maybe a light could be the one to show them what's on the inside.

Maybe when space was too small, living beings would be granted tools to make their own world. Maybe it would be enough for them to cooperate and fulfill their dreams.

Dreams are just arriving during sleep, someday they will arrive during clear wakefulness. Maybe worlds will bump into each other, maybe out last goodbye is just until a dream reunites us. And when mirrors can reflect the future, our memories will recall our true selves.

Mistakes we regret, who knows, life is blind. Heaven is blind. To be blind is to be one with grace, and to walk with divinity and to be a medium for love to connect us to others.

It isn't our eyes which brought us into the world, it isn't by our eyes that we make friends and it isn't because of our eyes that we aren't content with misery. It isn't our eyes that make us dream or lets us feel warm around people we trust. It wasn't the blind who peered inside themselves preaching it was empty. It wasn't the blind who argued light doesn't exist.

Its the blind that can laugh without inhibitions, who can open a closed heart or a calm the distressed.

When Heaven cries, it isn't crying because it lost something, it cries because their are too many tears, it can't keep them forever. It wouldn't leave room for the angels.

And if you ever see an angel cry, it is crying because it knows your own sorrow.

Sa was told to never be too busy for love. He learned that meant he could never be too busy for his family and, later he knew to include his true friends. He learned that meant acting with goodness and compassion. He learned that meant to never neglect the flowers and petals in his life. He knew that meant those few special times when his imagination was turned towards the light. He knew that he couldn't be too busy for an angel. And he learned that there was no room for any business.

And so Sa was always a receiving end when the clouds were giving. And he was always a giver when the mountains shrunk and the clouds receded.

Sa didn't want to see through things. He wanted to imagine multidimensional people. He could forsee immeasurable beings.

He could feel hinself dragged sluggishly by a movement more massive than all his dreams. He could see it in other people. Some were left behind, cleaning their glasses and tying their shoes. He called but they had earmuffs to cover their ears. He looked and waved, desperately. He was hurt to leave them.

He didn't know where he was going. It was hard to blindly trust, especially when so many were staying. They didn't even seem to notice his departue. He wanted to be a child again. He wanted to be unchanging, he wanted everything to sort out on its own. He wanted to be full of wonder with eyes so large a fish could sink into one. What a miracle it was that he was alive. And what a mariacle he could be in the middle of such maginificient endeavours. And where does his destiny lead him, and nobody could tell him.

He could just look from left to right and suddenly he was within another memory. Tender and quiet, relaxed and suspiciously comfortable. Maybe he belonged there. It was always a temptation to move back to the past. It was wise to live today. If he never lived today, he wouldnt have any memories.

And if he had a crystal ball, he would know that his dreams were soon to come true. Much sooner than he could anticipate. If only he knew his fate, he would question exactly what his dreams were. He would be wise to dream of lasting fulfillment, eternal peace and love and contentment.

It was simple enough sometimes. He always reflected on times when, if he had the discipline and wisdom, he would have remained simple. We have only one brain for a reason, to remember that things are meant to be simple. We would be born with many brains if our lives were meant to be so complicated and troublesome.

Sa could jump off a building, but that's not what he wanted for his life. But, what did he want? He wanted to dream and he wanted to spend his life with her. Where had she gone? Sometimes she was there when he dreamed and when he came back to reality she was gone. He wanted to meet her and be happy and dream a life of their own, everlasting and creative beyond imagination.

Funny how often his soul would move out of the scene. And when it was back, he knew. And when his soul was around, he could warm up the whole room. And he could look for her in every place. His soul kept his head straight and heart strong, and his eyes open. His soul was the glue of goodness that kept his whole being pursuing the truth.

And at times he could forget his soul, but just by chance it would be recalled to the surface.

And it was still a secret to him how to rewind time. He was yet to be sipping hot chocolate for the first time, again. He was yet to see the sun for the first time, again.
However, he was yet to see her for the first time.
He was yet to be in love with her, for the first time.
He was yet to dream upon the experience and he was yet to see Heaven.
He was yet to see Heaven.

Number Sixty Nine

Atee remembered a dream she had had. She didn't want to remember. Sometimes it was better to not think about certain things. Sometimes she just wanted to bury her head in the sand until she was too old to remember anything.

She could walk and talk and go through all her parts fine. She could play by the rules and follow the script. She would just go through the motions and life was so easy.

And a dream would try to meet her during the day. It would try to pull her into the sky or sink her through the ground.

Atee could surrender and go through a dream or two. But, she would just cry. Every moment spent in a dream was a moment she spent in a photograph. She hated being still and she hated faded colors. She wanted out of the past, she would rather pass unnoticed than live through history.

It was remarkable when the rain fell before the sun, as it waited at its highest point. It was remarkable when the snow fell and the sun couldn't melt it, it was remarkable when white light reflected off the ice crystals and blinded the planet.

It was remarkable when the planet spun itself into a coma and froze over.

Atee predicted an earthquake would split the core in half. She would see the other half splitting away. The infernal mass would float away downstream, towards another star. And she would learn to live with everyone on her side. The halves could split again and everyone may have to find a new planet.

She refused to fly all alone.
She refused to wait and watch, she refused to carry all the flowers.

She couldn't always tell what she saw. Was it a tree, or a parent. Or something to kill for fuel. Was it a lush planet or a seed, or a single cell.

And what did she see in herself, where was she. She knew where everyone else saw, but what did she think.

And where did this light come from. The world got it from the stars. But where did the stars get it, is there light without stars?

She knew if she sat in the dark, she didn't make any of her own. She was just an empty container.

She could imagine beautiful light showing from her eyes.

She could imagine a tangible ghost. She could imagine an unbounded attachment, a bond so free and limitless. She could hold her hands together and trap light inside, only by imagining. Only by her imagination she could share light, could she wrap it in a package, could she cherish it in her heart.

She didn't have enough time to learn to forget. And she could only sleep until her toes tingled and she sat up. And she could only stand until the wind knocked her down. It was by her own balance that she fell and, it was by her own concentration that she made mistakes.

Some songs were made to be silent. It wasn't only her that delighted in a bathtub of warm air. It wasn't just a snake that enjoys new skin.

She prayed once that she should be able to hear the trees and the clouds and the galaxies and the whole cosmos. They didn't exist to be merely seen and felt. She couldn't always hear what she could see.

She had a lost friend in all the places her first breaths went to. She'll make more unknown friends when she spends her first days in the ground. She will give up all she ever accumulated without question. They will have no one to thank when they become what she was.

Nothing changed for her. She had been zero before today and tomorrow she will remain a zero. Just one glorious day to be alive and revel in a mess. One moment to shine and compete with all the others. Just a mere second to wake up and see the sun, to taste the water and touch the sky.

And nothing changed the next time when the rest went through the same thing.

One was listening to the rain splatter against the shingles above their head. One was rolling down a grassy hill into a flowery knoll. One was looking one last time at his planet he had promised to return to. One was inside a closet hiding from the world. One was singing a song.

She couldn't be so lucky. She couldn't be anymore. Her hour was over. She would watch if she could. She would spare everything but her consciousness just to see the world for another day. She didn't know what good her soul was if it didn't help her get back to Heaven.
She didn't know what good her money was when she couldn't buy back the life she lost.
She didn't know what good her music was when it couldn't follow her out of the world.
She didn't know what good it was to be popular when there was nobody left when she arrived.

She could keep her memories and she could keep her hope and dreams.

She would trade her hope and dreams for a friend, if she could.
She would trade her memories for a little happiness.

Number Seventy

Maybe tomorrow someone would call and nobody would be around to hear it.

Maybe Sa would be all alone, looking for the strength to stay. Searching for his inner temple, searching for the courage not to give in. Just any day, he may be looking for her and she wouldn't be there anymore. The name wouldn't mean anything.

For now, he could still look inside.

Maybe tomorrow he wouldn't be around to.

He knew there were things inside he didn't want to find. He didn't have the will to confront them.

For now, he would just say yes and keep on walking. If he kept moving he didn't have to see, he didn't have to be anywhere.

Someday there would arrive a great light, blanketing over everything. It would bring joy and friendship, at the expense of secrecy. Sa could feel good under the light but there were a few things he would have to lock inside.

He wasn't allowed to talk about the hurting when he saw someone disappear into the light. He wondered what else he couldn't share.

The next day, Sa saw another someone disappear. They were just raking their leaves and they vanished. He thought he had seen into the future. He thought he must have foreseen their inevitable passing.

He tried but no one would listen. He tried to put it away inside. But, it wasn't soft, it wasn't natural. It wasn't a good fit, it was meant to be shared in a dialogue.

He ran away from the light. No more secrets.

He ran to a great shadow he imagined. No more secrets.

He felt his feet disappearing. He still felt himself moving, but it was as if his body was falling asleep from the bottom up.

His lower half was physically absent. No more secrets, he couldn't trap anything else inside.

Someone saw Sa disappearing. It hurt them too. They couldn't tell anyone either. They wanted to look away, but he was fighting so hard to stay.

Someday he knew he would have to make a choice.

He couldn't belong to two places at once.

A part of him was alive on Heaven. Another part was alive on the ground. He could take his chances and travel back and forth in his dreams.

He just hadn't prepared. He had to loosen his memories. He was soon to be free.

The someone watching couldn't see Sa anymore.
Sa was totally and vastly, immensely and incredibly, fast asleep.

Number Seventy One

Sa had just been defeated. He couldn't stand on his own legs anymore. They carried him everywhere.

They carried him off for display and he was shown to everybody, helpless and humiliated.

They looked and they wept. Nobody knew his sorrow.

Sa was relocated to a place far away from those he thought loved and cared for him. He couldn't even see them from down there. He just wanted to see them.

He was trapped, forever, never to be saved. Just like all the others around him. Nobody bothered to visit anymore. Once his usefulness had expired, so had their love.

He thought he knew what love was. But it was all an illusion. He thought forever and always. He thought eternal and everlasting. He never would have guessed.

His life wasn't even his. His life belonged to the ones who took it away. They went on collecting them, went on raising more children and collecting their lives. He would have held onto it, he would taken it with him. But, they didn't even look into his eyes.

He wanted to return and save every last spirit breathing underground.

Sa would continue until everybody was respected and allowed not just a voice, but a place. Just a space to be. Deny the space and they will lose all their time.

Time exists in space, and space exists in time.

Without any space, their futures are nullified.

Sa would rejoin any corner of the universe and remember himself to there.

Why not love forever and always?
Don't let time push you away, because it will escape you.
Don't forget the days you lost, however, don't walk backwards.
Don't waste your space, it won't wait around for you.
Don't believe you are irreplaceable, everything in nature gets replaced.

Remember yourself far away, relive with someone else, as another life, at another time, with the same love and the same soul.