“BlackWhiteSpiral” by Kurt
(Used with permission: sumo.fm)
Dream
I sit on the plaza steps overlooking the beach, taking it all in. wind-whipped waves create high drama, luring visitors to the edge for a closer look. Teenagers hang out in high spirits as they stake out a place on the steps in anticipation of the evening’s rock concert. Dogs cavort and children chase kites. Three young men wander behind the plaza, to the vault created by the steps. Three alert crows follow them and vigil outside. Soon, a man enters the vault, carrying a large piece of driftwood like a battering ram. His sinister demeanor does not bode well for the boys. I follow. Upon entering, the scene immediately accosts my senses. The man has brutally battered the three teens. Their bodies instantly disintegrate, leaving only three drops of blood on the floor. The man knocks me flat as he flees from the vault. The three crows fly in and surround the blood drops. Each crow takes one drop in its beak and flies out. I run out into the plaza, desperate to see where they take the blood. They land on the opposite side of the plaza, and drop the blood on the floor before an old Buddhist nun who sits in meditation. She stretches her arms in a wide arch around the blood and blows on it. The spray from her breath shapes the first arch of the spiral, then the next, and the next, until new life has a new path. Unable to sustain the mesmerizing effect of the process for long, I wake up, reaching for breath.
Poem
Immortality
These interrupted lives will not see the
Thirtieth chamber this time around.
They have morphed into mere mortal vestiges,
Immortality a dim dream,
Until…
Shelled lives reshell,
And Yin becomes Yang.
The winged clairvoyants carry the remnants
To rest and wait in the
Genes of their souls, until buoyed on the
Breath of Expectation,
They rise
Again.
© rita h kowats
Creative Process
This is a dream I had a few years ago. I remembered it when I saw the art work of the nautilus shell. At the time of the dream, that image was strong and insistent. It took a couple of days to let it meander around my unconscious. As I entered the hypnagogic state I consciously re-entered the dream. It took me to the same place with only a few fresh nuances. The theme of immortality came in a meditation on the art work. That bright light at the core of the shell conceived the poem.
Spirituality Without Borders: Reflections on Spiritual Practice 
Rita, I would like to share this with some of my students, as a beautiful example of the creative process of dream sharing… Would you mind if shared this with them and linked back here?
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Thank you so much, Amy. I am honored to share. There are two more dream/poem posts that may interest them. The land of Nod is a collaboration between Kayla (find her at wp dreamerly) and me. She posted the dream on her blog and I entered it, and wrote a poem. It was such fun. She is starting an online dream magazine and is looking for submissions. Maybe your students would like to submit.
I would enjoy your class!
Rita
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I love your work rita. Thanks for sharing and letting us be a part of these insights 🙂
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I appreciate your presence, Alex. Thank you so much.
Sent from my Kindle Fire
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What an amazing dream! Wow. Your poetry is beautiful as always. What a treat!
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Thanks, Kayla. So good to share cyberspace with you.
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Being unsure of how to word my comment–I blog about science subjects. However, your blog speaks strongly to me. Perhaps, I am missing something between my humanity, writing and reality. As usual thank you for posting.
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Maybe you are missing nothing, but finding something instead. As much as I am able to understand physicists who are looking for integration with spirituality (like David Bohm), thoughts are energy. Energy doesn’t die, but reconstitutes. Perhaps we could say that thoughts constitute our spirits….so, why would our spirits die? Our energy as human beings lives on after our bodies die. An author from the past whom you may enjoy is Teilhard de Cardin, the Jesuit paleontologist. Someone who writes about cosmology today is Diamurd O ‘Murchu. It is a wonder that the church hasn’t condemned him for the radical and exciting connections he makes between science and spirituality. He gets away with it because he is not a theologian. He’s a social psychologist.
I so appreciate your thoughts, John.
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