Down To The Water’s Edge

Another memorable dream….
I was a young girl,
thirteen almost fourteen years old,
At home with my brothers,
One who was around five,
And the other one
Was still an infant.

Our parents were away
For a day or so,
(maybe longer?,)
On a business trip
Of some kind.

We did o.k. by ourselves,
And were used to
These short, periodical times
When they would leave
And come back a few days later
(At the most,)
And then envelope us
in their strong love for us.

I walked out
Into our back yard,
And down to the lake
That bordered it.

A thick cement wall
Had been built years ago
Between the lake & the houses
That banked up to it,
To serve as a protection
Against any rising waters
That may happen
In the future.
Over the years,
The water in the lake
had slowly risen
and was now held back
all the time, by the wall.

I stood next to the wall,
Looking over the lake,
Now quiet and peaceful,
With barely a ripple
Upon its smooth surface.
Willow branches,
Green with their foliage, 
Leaned over the water,
Casting its color
Into the water.

I often loved
To come here,
Down to the water’s edge.
It was such a peaceful place
To rest and think.

 This time,
I could see that the water was up
Almost to the edge of the wall.
It had come up to this height
Once or twice before,
But never as high
As I noticed it was now.
The amount of water surprised me,
For the storm that had just passed through
A few hours before,
Had reportedly not dumped
that much water onto the land.
Where was it coming from?
What would happen to us
If it rose so high
That it overflowed?

I remembered well
What happened
To the city of New Orleans,
And how their wall
Was breeched by the lake waters
Right after a big storm.
What would we do
If that happened here?
We would have to grab
What we could,
And get ourselves
To higher ground.

As these thoughts
Went through my mind,
My eyes watched the water line
Creep upwards ever so slowly,
Like a big plastic pool 
being filled up with water
from the garden hose.
Its movement was undetectable
By just looking at it;
One had to stare at it,
To see its upward flow.
It was now almost
To the top of the wall.
Would it choose to overflow now,
When my parents were away?

As I pushed the thought away,
I watched the water
Crest and flow over the wall,
Slowly at first, but quickly gaining
in momentum, volume, and strength.

I turned and ran back to the house,
Yelling out to my brother
That the water had breeched the levy,
And that he had to grab what he could
For we would have to run to safety,
Onto higher ground.

I wrenched open the back door,
Ran to the room
Where my baby brother lay
Still sleeping in his crib,
Grabbed his bedding, diaper bag,
Formula, and teddy,
And ran back out into the hallway
Where my other brother
Had gathered up some food,
Blankets, and a small survival kit,
And dumped them all
Into a big canvas bag.

We could hear our horse outside
Still locked up in his little barn,
Neighing with excitement and fear,
 As he tried to break free
From his holding.

I ran outside as fast as I could
to where he was,
quickly unleashed his tethers,
and threw a saddle upon him.
I didn’t even have the time
To secure it upon his back,
For the water had now risen
To just a few feet from us.

I jumped up upon the horse,
whispered the usual comforts
Into his flickering ears,
And spurred him back to the house.

My other brother
Had gathered together
All he could,
And now stood there
At the foot of the driveway,
Three bags of stuff,
And our baby brother
Snug in his carry cradle,
All sitting in his favorite
Red rider wagon.
He had hooked up
A harness of sorts
To the wagon,
And while I reached down
To grab my baby brother,
He secured the wagon
To the horse with strong rope.
I then reached down to him
With my one free hand,
And together we hoisted him up
To sit right behind me.

We turned to look back
At the house,
Hoping to see that the water
Had stopped rising,
And that we would
not have to leave.
But instead,
Our house was now surrounded
By the rising waters,
And was steadily advancing
To where we stood.

So with a breath of goodbye
To the house we grew up in,
We boldly moved forward,
Praying that God
would protect and lead us
with His Holy Spirit,
into His safety
and onto higher ground. 

We traveled for many days,
As the land behind us
Was swallowed up
By the rising waters.
We tried to warn others
But they would laugh at us.
When the water rushed in,
We would turn our eyes
Away from them,
For we refused
to watch them die.
(We knew we could do nothing
To help them, once the water
Began to swallow them up.)

The government
Would set up road blocks
Refusing to let people pass.
They rounded them up instead,
And sent them away from here.
We did not want
To go with them,
For we knew
That they were not to be trusted,
And would insist
On splitting us up.
They also believed
That I was too young
To care for a baby,
So we knew they
Would take our baby brother
From us, and we would never
see him again.
(We knew we had just lost
Our parents;
Loosing each other
Would be too much for us to take.)

We stumbled upon
One of these road blocks,
And in an effort to escape
From them, we turned
And went into a thick forest,
Making our way through it,
Till we came upon
A shallow dirt road.

We followed this road
For a short while,
Till we came to a coach
Being pulled by a team of horses.

Their owner cursed us
And warned us off his land,
Saying that he did not want
Any government overflow
To come upon his land.

“We’re trying to escape
From the arms of the government;
This is why we have stumbled
Upon your land!”

The older man
Made no move or sound,
So I tried another tactic.

“Please sir, I have
my little brother with me,
and an infant to care for
as well. Please, could we
seek shelter on your land,
till the government
passes by?”

At this, the old man frowned.
“Where are your parents?
They should be with you,
And caring for the baby!”

“Our parents
Are no longer with us, sir.
It is just me and my two brothers.”

I watched the mans face
As his eyes narrowed.
“Just how old are you, girl?”

When I told him,
He harrumphed,
And gruffly told us
To follow him.

He led us to his home,
Where others spilled out
To see us.

The family was large,
Made up of extended family,
And several children.
They believed it was best
To live off the land
And have nothing to do
With others, outside of their family.

We stayed there,
For several days.
The old man’s wife
Seemed to take to us
And we found ourselves
Soon included
Into their family.

When I figured
The government
Had passed,
I went to pack up our stuff,
But the mom and dad
Encouraged us to stay.

“What do you have
To go to?” the old man asked me.
“Why could you not stay here
With us? Come,” he said.
“Stay at least for a while longer…”

Well, we stayed with them,
For several years.

The closer I was
To becoming eighteen,
The more I sensed from my Lord,
That we should move on.

Then one day,
I had a dream
Where the Lord told me
That this area where we were now,
Would soon be destroyed
By the rising flood waters,
Just as our home was.

I tried to warn
The mom and the old man,
But they scoffed at the thought
That there really was such a thing
As a God. That would give
Such an important message
To someone as young as I.

“You don’t need to come up
With an excuse to leave you know,”
The mother snapped at me.
“Just leave.”

So me and my older brother
Gathered up all our stuff,
And I had snuggled my little brother
(now about five years old or so,)
Onto the little red wagon,
Into all the blankets and pillows,
So he would be comfortable
During our trip.

We took off,
And was not too far down the lane,
When a cry arose up behind us,
And they came chasing after us.

The mom and dad then accused me,
Of kidnapping their new baby.

I assured them that we did not,
But they soon found their baby
Nestled in amongst the blankets
That I had placed my own baby brother in
Just a short while ago.

I panicked, and began
To search for my baby brother,
But soon found him,
Hiding away in their baby’s crib.

He told us then,
That he had switched
Himself with their baby,
Cause he did not want
To go with us.
He wanted to stay with them instead.

I cried then, for I was shaken up
From the thought, that I almost took
The wrong child along with us,
And that may have been
Against the will of my God.

My crying, appeased
the mom and dad somewhat,
and so they then once again,
offered for us to stay with them.

We refused, reminding them again,
Of my dream. WE then asked them
To come with us,
But they refused my offer
With haughty distain.

When we tried to leave again,
Our little brother put up
a big temper tantrum,
and insisted that he stay
with them.

He told us then,
That we weren’t his
brother and sister anymore,
“these are my brothers and sisters,”
He said, pointing to all
the other children around him.
“And this is my mom and dad,” he said,
Pointing to the old man and his wife.

No matter what we said,
He refused to go with us. 

Both our hearts ached then,
For we realized that there was no way
To keep him with us
When he really didn’t want to,
And to leave him behind,
Meant that he would die
Along with all the others.

So with VERY sad hearts,
We turned and left.

A few days later,
As we made our way
Along the ridge
Of the mountain top,
We looked down
Into the valley
Where their house lay,
And watched
As the waters rushed in
And ripped their house
Off its foundation,
And crushed it down
into broken bits of board.

With our hearts breaking,
We realized, that there were
no survivors.

We cried
For the loss of our own brother,
And even for the loss
Of the others.

We then, slowly and sadly,
continued on our way.
I then woke up.

*  *  *  *

Ask Me

Another dream…

I am a very pretty woman,
With long wavy black hair,
And I’m married to a man
Who is just as good looking as me.
He’s tall and buff,
With muscles built up to the max.
Many men want me when they see me,
And try to reach me,
But my husband protects me from them.

Everywhere I go,
I see children, and then cry.
I love children.

My husband tries to seduce me,
And get me so carried away with passion
That we’d ‘forget’ to use
Protective birth control.
But I refuse him every time,
For I do not want another baby.
I’m afraid I’d end up killing it again.

We go to a party
Where there are lots of children.
I see one in mortal danger,
And manage to rescue it,
But then I break down and cry.

A cute little girl next to me,
Asks me why I am crying.
(After all, I saved the child.)
So I tell her about my boy,
And how God told me
To ask Him to save him,
to make the Bible claim to do so,
But I was too angry at my husband
And at God to do it.
I figured I would do so later.
But later became too late,
And he died.
He died because of me.

I left the party by myself after that.
My husband told me to wait,
And he’d go get our stuff & bring me home,
But I went ahead and took the car
by myself anyways.
(As I drove off, it looked as if he tried
To follow at a distance.)
I tried to drive home, but soon found
That I was now in the middle of a bad storm.
Freeway accidents abounded all around me,
But I skirted through them all confidently
And without a problem,
For I knew that God would
keep the way clear the way for me.

I soon found though,
that too many roads were washed out,
so I had to stop & walk through
old, sandy, and barren, hiking trails
that wove through the countryside,
and followed parallel
to the ocean’s edge.

My husband caught up with me,
And said “of course this way
Was the only way to go home.
Why did you think otherwise?”

So we walked together,
But I still managed to walk
A short ways from his side
On another path next to him,
For I was still too mad at him
For refusing to leave me alone,
And not respecting my wishes
To not have another baby.

Suddenly, my path veered off
The cliff edge, and into the ocean.

I turned to look behind me,
But the path I had just walked on
Had just washed away,
And the path before me
Was too soft to support any weight.
I tried my best to go forward,
But found I was loosing my footholds fast.

I wondered what I should do,
(take my chances with the ocean?
It didn’t look too deep where I was,)
But felt God telling me
To try and climb up the side
Of the small cliff on my hands and knees,
And that God would make the earth
firm enough for me.

I did as He suggested,
And found the ground was firm enough
(though it felt like gel,)
To support my weight.
So I climbed up in the direction
Of where I knew my husband to be.
When I reached the top,
I came to a stream,
Fast moving and growing
From all the storm water run-off.

I was going to walk further up
To see if I could cross over there,
But then my eyes caught sight
Of a still small child, alongside the stream,
Lying mostly underwater.

I went and got her,
And carried her up to her mom.
She had almond-shaped eyes
And beautiful straight, black, oriental hair.

I tried to use the Heimlich maneuver
To remove the water from her lungs,
And even though I did manage
to remove a good amount of it from her,
she still would not move.

So I started to cry again.

“No, no! Not again! Please not again!
Please Lord, not again! Don’t let
Another child in my arms
Die yet again!”

Just then, my eyes caught sight
Of a small heart-shaped pearl button,
That had fallen off her dress.
(It reminded me of those
Heart-shaped candies
That can be found
Around Valentine’s Day.)
This one, said “ASK ME.”

So I did.
I spoke the scripture out loud,
That lets me make a claim
Upon the Lord, and promises me
That I will receive it,
“in order to give glory to the Father.”

But still, nothing happened.

“Breathe for her,”
said the voice within.
So I did.
Once, and then twice,
And then me and the child’s mother
Both seen the child’s head move.

I was going to try for a third time,
just to make sure she’d have enough oxygen,
And bent over her again to do so,
But the girl suddenly held up her hand
And said “no more.”
She then wrinkled up her nose,
And said “you have bad breath!”

Me along with her mother
Burst out laughing.
I told the child then,
With a wry smile of my own,
That eating onions will do that…
We parted from them,
And slowly, with my husband,
We returned home.
I then woke up.

*  *  *  *

Press Yourself Back In

Another dream…

I am a young girl
I think from the south. (Georgia?) I could be wrong.
I am not a southern belle
But more up-to-date, (a punk rocker?)
And even a bit radical.

I live in a place with gently rolling hills
Covered with grass.
Off into the distance, one can see
The tops of the skyscrapers,
From a big metropolitan city.

I am laying down on the sidewalk,
With my cheek pressed down against the cement,
reveling in its  warmth,
when suddenly the Voice inside me,
says “What are you doing? Get up!
Can’t you see that storm  off in the distance there?
It is headed your way, fast!”

I looked up in the direction
That the Voice was prompting me of,
And seen the angry storm It was warning me of.
Indeed, as I stood there for a long moment,
I could tell that it was headed our way,
And quickly, too. Almost too quickly for a simple ‘storm’.

So I warned those I was with of the storm,
And that we should think of finding shelter
Wherever we could, Before it hit.

I  went back into my back yard,
And closed the fence behind me.
Already, there were many people there,
All milling around and talking, as if
this was simply another false warning,
that they were going to party through.

A few voices among them,
Lovingly teased me over this,
For my views on such happenings
were well known among them.
One or two others who knew me less,
Mocked me. I ignored them.

As I made my way through the crowd,
The call was made to order pizza.
“No more than six, o.k.?,”  I responded,
As a few of my closer friends
Frowned at me in warning.
“And,” I stated to the crowd with a wry smile,
“Each of you who has some pizza,
Can chip in a few bucks to help pay for it.
My bank account can’t afford
to keep paying for all you guys pizza’s, you know.”

Sure enough, when the pizza came,
Everyone chipped in enough to pay for it,
So I did not have to.

The Voice within, told me to get inside now,
For the storm was almost upon us.

So I went inside, (As did some others,)
Down into the half-basement
And watched the storm through a big upper window,
As it seemed to settle over the nearby metropolitan city.

Sounds began to filter in,
Layered upon each other,
Cement cracking, metal screeching,
Hundreds of people Screaming,
As if they each suddenly realized
Their life would soon end,
Then abruptly silenced as if it did.

I walked to the other side of the double-bungalow,
Where the others were starring through the other upper window,
And my mouth fell open in shock at what I saw.

The clouds seemed to gather itself up, darken,
And then the sound of a booming thunder
Cracked down upon the earth below it.
I looked for the lightening that I knew preceded the thunder,
But instead I seen two thick red laser beams,
Emanating from the blue-black cloud,
Each making distinct precision cuts
Into the metropolis below it,
Cutting off the tops of these enormous skyscrapers
And tossing them out about the land
As if they were nothing but
a small child’s building block.

We all watched this scene repeat itself,
For several moments, frozen in horror,
As The top of an old light-colored skyscraper
Came sailing right at us, spinning and turning
As it tumbled and bounced off the ground,
The Voice within me said “What are you doing?
Get back over to the other side and seek shelter
Or you will die too!”

I moved quickly then,
Intent on finding the shelter that I needed.
I seen the old shelves before me,
Built into the walls of the house,
And they reminded me of an article I had read
That described how another Christian
Was able to survive a ‘storm’,
By crouching up & into one of the shelves,
And covering themselves with an old (wet?) mattress.

So, with this memory, & the Holy Spirit’s Voice within me,
Guiding me as to which spot was best for me,
I was able to find some shelter.

It was on one of the lower shelves,
The first one at level with the window.
(The basement was dug about three feet
Into the earth below it, and the windows
Were at ground level,) not too far forward, but pressed
Right into the corner of the two connecting walls.

Pandemonium ruled now,
As everyone ran about
Scattered and without thought.
As I looked at those around me,
Running around in their circles,
I knew that they would die.

My heart ached for them,
And I thought to go out
And try to warn them once more,
But The Holy Spirit within me,
Told me “No!,” and to remain where I was.
“You have already warned them many times before,
and they are too upset to make sense
of anything you’d say now.”

So with a heavy heart,
I crouched back into my little cubby hole,
And waited for the horrible sounds to end.
My face was to the window,
And I pressed towards that light
That still filtered in, hoping to still see
And keep watch on the world outside.
I figured that I would be safe enough,
For even though I knew
That the huge window would shatter,
I believed that it would not break
so close to it’s edges.

“No,” said The Holy Spirit still within me,
“You are to press yourself back in
As far as you can into the corner,
For after the chaos, there will come a search,
To locate any survivors,
And I do not want them to find you.”

I sensed from The Holy Spirit,
That the government
Would send out this search party,
To find any survivors, so they could kill them,
Thereby removing any witness.

I still could not quite accept
That our own Government
Would be the ones to kill us,
Yet I also knew, somehow,
That these death rays
Were ultimately from them.

“Well, at least I will survive this,” I thought to myself.
“With this mattress, I’ll even survive the fire.”

“Only,” The Holy Spirit responded to me,
“because you are now kitty-corner to the furnace,
And as far away from it as you can be.”

At this, I crouched as down and low as I possibly could,
and patiently awaited the end of the storm.

As the cold light of daybreak, came,
I awoke to the sounds of two male voices.

I could not make out what they were saying to each other,
But as I heard their laughter, I sensed that this destruction
Set before their eyes was not new to them,
for I heard no shock, dismay, or even concern in their voices.

Every few moments, they would yell out to any survivors,
Offering to help them, and then pause to listen to the silence
In case they could hear a response. 

As their voices grew closer,
I realized that my body had relaxed a bit in sleep,
And I was in danger of being seen,
So I re-tucked myself further back into the corner,
Beyond the frame of the window. 

As the men walked by the window where I was hiding,
I heard them decide amongst themselves
that nothing within the structure could have survived,
so they did no further searching among the wreckage.

I waited till the voices had faded into the distance,
Before sensing that I could now lift my head up
And open my eyes again.

I could see them still,
Walking off into the distance,
Clothed in their military gear,
With their rifles loosely by their side.

 

I then woke up from the dream…

*  *  *  *