Dreaming Me

 

It’s not so much that California changed me. More that being there, I found a part of myself that I had previously only faintly known existed.

She came out in the dusk of that mellow evening at the lake with golden shores, diving into the water in disbelieving delight, splashing and twirling and laughing at the impossibly perfect beauty of that moment. She was present on the rock at the edge of the cliff, the valley spread out far below, feet free in the cool mountain air as sleep came calling… She came joyful and playful that day that flowed as though it had been written for a film, each part unfolding smoothly without any effort at all, and each one more surprisingly wonderful than the one before.

As though she’d been waiting a timeless age to be set free. Her dance a special dance, her song a particular blend of old and new and never heard. Foreign to me, yet familiar. Exotic, yet somehow comfortable to wear, like an old pair of shoes that fit perfectly.

And I knew I’d find her there; she had whispered to me in my dreams, calling me gently, leaving me with a faint ghost of her presence when I woke.

In me, me; I am her and she is me.

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