Last night I dreamed I was back in college, in that old apartment on Walnut Avenue. Clothes were strewn across my bedroom floor, draped across the bed, piled up in corners. One of my friends sat on my bed and I reclined next to him, asked about his wife, his new baby. I was the me I am now—this woman quickly approaching fifty—but my heart was young and carefree. As I looked in my friend’s eyes, I knew I was old, but I felt beautiful and hopeful, as if time had no power over me.
When I awakened, I puzzled over the contradiction the dream posed.
“Why would I dream such a thing?” I asked my husband as we carpooled to work this morning.
Then I remembered. Today is the first day of summer. The summer solstice happens when the tilt of the earth’s axis leans closest to the sun, and we enjoy the longest day of the year.
I suppose if I think about it, I would say my college years might represent the summer of my life. If summer represents freedom and possibility, a time of dreaming and discovery. But the beautiful thing about the dream was that even though I was in an earlier time, I was the same age I am now. And felt the full impact of my gathered years as beauty.
I’m sitting with that for a spell. Letting it trickle down inside of me and drench my young heart—that heart with eternity written into it. The dreaming is not done with me yet.
“lean in a little more, honey,” says
the sun, glowing. and the night
scatters as light is sown gently
in the morning, this dream awakens
words so strong they are heard
underwater; scent of crushed flowers
the wind as stiff as stone, ushers
a sudden rain and clouds drift soft
amidst the tumbling
songs of robins.