First, I dreamed that I wandered from room to room in a glass house at the edge of the sea, working with my fears and my desires the way a sculptor works with clay, the way a fly-fisherman works his line.
Then I dreamed of women, of all the sisters I have known. They made a great circle around me and chanted Om three times. My heart became a bird of many colors. My rib cage opened and the bird flew up into the sky. My tear-ducts ran themselves dry and the muscles of my eyes ached. I knew I was alive.
Finally, I dreamed of bloodlines and of men, the many brothers I have known. I dreamed that my father, my grandfather and my son all sat with me at a round table of thick dark wood. At the center of the table was an elk heart with stones and feathers and seashells on it. We each ate some of the heart. I saw them all from a place of peace, a place where all my emotions and thoughts had become transparent. A place where love runs freely without refrain, a river whose dam has been lifted, flowing with its natural movement restored to it.
Love, you are the answer. Love, you are the way. Love, you are the force that opens me.
I woke early to a lone bird whose song split across the darkness, as if repeating something I had yet to discover. I had the feeling he knew it was spring. Whatever he knew, or didn’t know, he was joined shortly thereafter by his own sisters and brothers to usher in the sun.