Dreamlife

  In the dream, it’s night
time and I’m sharing a room with Hector (perhaps during one of our
yearly pilgrimages, like the one we made last week in waking life).
Although we seem to have already retired for the night, I am up and
about, trying to assemble something in the darkness, kneeling or
squatting beside a wall. Without leaving his bed, Hector is calling out
suggestions. All in vain–whatever it is I’m trying to fashion keeps
falling apart in my hands. I give up and open the curtains of our
window. It doesn’t look out on an urban landscape. Rather, it seems to
be at the top of the sloping walls of a valley, from which packets of
light ascend into the air. “How high that highest candle lights the
darkness.” And then, someone we recognise in the dream emerges along
with the lights but I have no recollection of his identity or
significance.