I dream of them alive now

Maybe this is me healing. Maybe it is the hope and welling love I have been cultivating in my heart recently (in spite of the occasional emotional breakdown). But I have been dreaming of my children.

I say it because its so beautiful I want to be true. I say it because I believe I am living that reality now in some other universe just a few moments ahead of this time. It's already happened.



I dreamed of two little girls--both of whom were born by me. The eldest of the two is between ages of seven and nine. She skin tone is a tad lighter than mine and she has black girl freckles. Her hair is brown and I've plaited it in two braids. She is a bit tomboyish, and bossy. I'm inspirited by her intrepid spirit. She's a warrior and a leader at such a young age. Its so clear she's destined to rule something... I have no fear that she will rule her own life entirely. She's playful and often directs her little sister in games. From time to time she gets into trouble and I have to console her to remind her that she is loved regardless of how I and her other mother have to guide her. She's sensitive. Intense. Vibrant.


The youngest is much more quiet than her sister. She is dark skinned, and although she is younger than her holder sister her hair is wild and much longer. Its in a HUGE afro puff in the back of her head. Her hair is Black, raven black. her eyes are intense and are shaped like mine. She's so old. So old. And quiet. She's around three years old but I know she knows the story of the universe by now. She sleeps a lot. As if she is tired from living so many lifetimes. She often does this in my lap. She wears a lot of pink--her choice, not necessarily mine. She has a vivid imagination. She interacts with her sister as a leveler. She brings a peace and quiet to her big sis that no one on earth can give her. Not even me. I spend a lot of time alone with her. While the eldest loves to be active and fierce, this one is searching for answers in my own moments of contemplation and silence. Sometimes I catch her just staring at me and other adults. It is as if she knows everything... but in this new life is really trying to trust and believe that she knows it.

Again I know the babies/children/progeny are metaphors, and yet are not. It is certainly a dramatic shift from the dead baby dreams of past years.

They live rumbling inside of me. Every time I conjure the dream my heart swells for the happiness of their existence.