Wild horses of dream

17 Jan

We are on a country road, at night. There are two lights hovering over the road in a short distance ahead of us. He says: «Let’s go there». As soon as we start walking, we seem to be walking in mid-air. Soon, we are going through thin veils of yellow, dissolving like clouds around us. I say: «These are beings!!». I’m marveled! Now horses are running towards us, flowing around our heads, drawing of horses really: I see only the contour of their heads and manes, like an orange line, of fire maybe, like prehistoric horses on caves, on both sides of the road, like they are flowing in from the middle of the night sky over the road. Then, suddenly, the horses are in front of us: I see their bodies now, their galloping legs: they are moving through us. They have phosphorescent blue/violet eyes. I whisper: «They have phosphorecent eyes…». I’m wondering why he doesn’t say anything. Then I hear a sound, not a purring exactly, but a sound made by a cat. I wonder about that sound and then light pours in and all the wild horses in movement solidify into pale fragments of roman ceramics on the ground and I’m wide awake.

 

This_morning_in_montreal

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