Beginning of a dream

 When Galen awoke, he felt very strange. He had never felt strange before. He didn't even know what strange was. But he felt it anyway. Of course he had had dreams before. Many dreams, Wonderful dreams, Dreams where he flew with eagles, Dreams where he was chief, a mighty warrior,
Dreams where white men were really brothers from across the big wide ocean. (Okay i made that part up) his dreams were normal dreams of any five year old boy. If any dream can be called normal. After all they are wonderful.
The dreams had many images that he could not understand. There were many words in a language that had no meaning for him. He was scared. This was not good. He was taught not to be afraid. He was taught he must be a brave brave. There were other words that were strange to him, but still they did have some meaning for him. They touched his soul. He knew his soul well. His soul was his friend and guided him to become a man one day. That day had arrived. Very strange indeed.
After going down to the river, to think and stare at the water move its way downstream, he knew he must see his father soon. He had a question. He knew no one else who might be able to answer this question. It was an important question. Of course he had many questions for his father, many five year old questions. His father had the answers for them all. But never had he had a question that was important. He didn't even know what important was.
Galen’s father was named Kaintuck. He was the tribe’s chief. He was stronger than any other brave. He was taller than many, many trees. He was Galen’s hero and his best friend. Kaintuck was on a hunt, but would be back soon. Galen waited by the water and tried to understand.
"Father i have a question."
"What is it Son?”
"What’s a button?”

 Ending of a dream

"That is a white man's word. They are very strange. Where did you hear that word?”
"In a dream."
"Tell me your dream."
"I saw many things that made no sense. I saw a man; i could not understand his words. He seemed mad and sad. He was talking, but he was alone. I talk to myself sometimes, but it seemed that he was talking to someone, that was not there. He was pushing a red round thing; i think it was a button. Everything went bright, then dark. I woke up then. But later i dreamed again. I saw the same man again, but he didn't seem so mad.
He was very sad, he was crying, sometimes he laughed, still he was alone, and I couldn't understand what he was laughing at. It seemed he was laughing at me. How could that be Father?”
"This was not a normal dream Son. This was a vision."
"Like the ones Grandfather had?”
"Each person's visions are unique. I can not tell you what your vision means. You will have the vision many times. It will change. In time you will understand more and more. As you grow older the vision will grow as well, remember what you can, do not worry about what you do not understand. You should speak to your Grandfather; he knows visions better than i."
"Father, Grandfather is dead."
"Is he not still alive in your heart? Has he gone from your memory?”
"No he is not gone. I have dreamed of him many times. But we do not speak. We run and laugh and fish. Sometimes we fly."
"If you start speaking to him, he will answer. You are still very young. Be patient."


A poem by glen from a book of poems called, "Love McBunny"

Unique

My name is Monique, I am unique
There is no one anywhere quite like me
And there was this boy
He seemed a fine catch indeed
They were leaving him alone, so it was little trouble to pull his weight to mine
And for a time we shared our forgotten moments together
He flashed and waved
I tumbled and surrendered
We broke our eyes from the future, in a now of presents
We had a half-assed kind of understanding, but it didn't last
It couldn't last
He grew old, I became wise
In our age and wisdom, we passed from fantasy to reality
To the boring reminder, that we are only mortal once
And we shouldn't really be wasting our precious time
The space became so crowded, we were forced to separate
We went our different ways; it now appears that he is also unique
And i thought i was the only one


Gawel before he became mad and sad.

"It will never work."
"Borden, you are a chronic cynic."
"And you gawel are a madman."
"No not yet, i still have some time left."
"Cold fusion has been nothing but a dream for over five hundred years. Someone every so often thinks that they are close to a breakthrough,
They write papers, hold a press conference, make a splash, and then sink."
"I’m learning to swim."


Another poem

There are no absolutes, including this one
What if there was?

Time rocked back unto its sleep
Far into its deep
In memory and action
There was this reaction
Space lay open in its waste
Looking past where it could taste
Hearing clocks that ticked
Saying, "I think I am licked."
Nothingness was watching
Very little eggs were hatching
"You see, we were the first."
And then, there was a very big burst
We all know what happened after the Big Bang
We all heard the clock that struck and rang
But what goes on after the after?
Is it something more than all this laughter?
God is not what we think, including this
And even when we link, and feel the bliss
We miss


That night went Galen slept; he did not have the strange dreams. He dreamed of flying, walking on the water then diving in the sea, walking on the bottom and watching fish swim by. He talked to a sea horse and rode him around the bend. There he saw a city. Full of light and love. They called the place Atlantis, home of braves.



Middle of a dream

Don’t you hate it when you wake up in the middle of a dream and never get to see the end? You go back to sleep, but now it's a different dream.
Glen here. I may have made a mistake.
Thoughts can describe love. The body can feel love. For love to grow it needs a kind of food that only the soul can give.
The mistake was the kind that is easy to make. Someone once told me there are no shortcuts. I tried to take a shortcut. As a result it will take longer for me to live my dream. And what is my dream? To be honest and true, to love and be loved, just like most everyone else. I barely have a clue and i think that clue is a red herring. i feel like i am bleeding through my thoughts, i hear a voice that says, "i want to be just like you." and i don't know what i am like. I should really give people more credit. I have short-changed them for so long. Just given half a chance many people will surprise you and let you know that you are not alone. I barely give a quarter. To let someone in. what harm could come from that?

Slowly, day by day Galen began to accept his new sleeping life, there still was much he did not understand, but more and more he ignored what he heard and just remembered what he saw. He saw a world that did not yet exist; he was not sure what this could mean. Did it mean that one day it would? Was he seeing the future? Like all young children he lived only in the present. There was now and nothing more. If he did not see it, hear it, smell it, taste it and touch it. Then it was not real. It did not exist. Out of sight, out of mind, what strange thoughts are these? Are they even mine? And who in the the Great Spirit's name was Gawel?

Gawel was a physicist. Quantum mechanic, a builder of bombs, bigger, more powerfull than the last. Of course it made no sense. But the pay was outstanding.
Legend has it, that there have been more than a few near misses. Nuclear holocaust, brinkmanship, Mexican standoffs, meltdowns, massive radioactive leaks, terrorists, madmen in the white house, criminals in the kremlin, tyrants everywhere.
While Gawel was building the better bomb, he did have a private project. Cold fusion, limitless energy, the end to all of man's problems, the final solution, most called it a pipedream now. But many years ago the idea was taken very seriously by very serious men and women. The atom had been spilt, and then fused. The release of energy was incredible. Fantastic, scary, a bad omen, too much power in one place. What if the wrong people got a hold of it? They could hold the world hostage. Many times they did.
That was long ago now. The world had gone to the edge. Nearly toppled off the deep end of the pool, taken a swan dive off a cliff, James Deaned its way to stardom, blown to smithereens.
The world had reached a kind of truce. Nuclear disarmament, glasnost, detente, the corporations had taken over completely. The once fabled sign of the coming of Christ, one world government, was averted. And Christ has not yet appeared. But He was alive and well. Thank God.

"Grandfather will you speak with me today?”
"Galen, my son, you have grown strong and true. Do not let your visions trouble you. They are a future, but not the only one. In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king."
Then Grandfather let out a roar of laughter, i had never heard such a laugh.
ROFLMASO.
"Don’t be frightened son; it's just something i heard a Whitman once say. yYou have a question.”
"My visions are of someone named Gawel and another whose name i have not yet learned. He writes words that touch my soul. Who are these people?”
"The poet's name is Glen. The other is too far away for me to see, plus I choose not to look his way. They are a part of your soul, perhaps more.
Do you know any of the poet’s words?”
"I know them all."

One Day

One day is gold, the next day is sold
One day is glad, the next day is sad
One day is kind, the next day is mined, and everything is blown away
One day is up, the next day is down
One day is dreams, the next day they're shattered
I just wanted someone who mattered
One day is young, the next day is old
One day is love, the next day it flies away like a dove
I’m falling in love, head over heels with you
One day you're mine, the next day it's a fine line, which’s in love with who
One day is late, one day is great, and I get to see you again
One day is sure, the next day I need a cure
One day I'm full of hope, the next day i'm full of dope, just trying to ease the pain
One day you're here, the next day you're there, I don't want you there; I want you here with me
And what will tomorrow bring?
Will it bring you?
Is there anyone like you?
What about you?

Sunday Rose

I could have been a millionaire, but i love my Sunday Rose
I’m sorry Jackie O.
I could have had one hundred women, when I lived near a convent.
They all really loved what I could invent.
But I couldn't be that low, oh you know I love my Sunday Rose
I could have been president, but I said no, take Ronnie and go.
I love my Sunday Rose
I could have gone to the moon and taken one small step.
I’d rather leap into the room, where my Sunday rose.
I could have rich and famous, just like Famous Amos.
I know my cookies would really sell.
But nobody knows, but my Sunday Rose, how my cookies taste.
I could have been a Farmer, but I love my Sunday Rose.
Our love just grows and grows.
I could have been an ambulance driver, but Heaven knows, I love my Sunday Rose
I could have been a contender, but her love is so tender, I love my Sunday Rose 
Ain't nothing better than a good woman's love.

When RCA first hired Gawel they pretended to be interested in his quest for cold fusion. He was very excited to finally get funding for his research. But after a couple of years of no real breakthrough, they began to give him the Treatment.


Genesis of a dream

Gawel only felt safe in two places. His lab of course and the public library, actually most of his time was spent in his private office, down the hall from the lab, to the left. There was one picture hanging on the otherwise bare walls, the Rockettes. The lab was located in the old RCA Radio City Music Hall building. All the real work was done in this office. Waiting for his next command prompt was his Mac Gazillion. His work on cold fusion was mostly theoretical; of course there were lab experiments. But the big tests took place at Cern, near Geneva Switzerland, at the world’s largest electron accelerator.
While his office and lab was his haven, the library was his playground. Since childhood, it had been his second home, first really. Mom and Dad were not so kind. They thought him to be very weird. It is not good to be seen as a stranger in your own home. He ran away once at nine, then for good at fourteen. Hours upon hours were spent in many different libraries across the country.
The librarians were especially nice to him. Very protect full and quite useful in his many researches. They made sure he was not disturbed. A large big city library could attract a diverse group of humanity.
And now his haven had become a hell.

I have been thinking of starting a new chapter of AA. It would be for incipient alcoholics. Incipient means beginning, that is what a psychiatrist once thought to call me. He probably was right. I don’t know if AA has a theme song, but the IAA’s would be, “We’ve only just begun”.
We would only begin a 12 step program and probably not finish it. Procrastination is the key to longevity, keep putting off death. And I wonder. Is stupidity fatal? Only the smart know for sure.
While I am at it, I would like to make light of another serious subject. Evolution is the closest thing to a new religion that has come down the pike in quite some time. Certainly it has flaws and the many inevitable misconceptions, yet for what it is worth it still offers viable answers to many of life’s great questions. Why are we here and where did we come from? Religion tries to tell us that we are here to worship God and that we came from Adam’s rib. Why is it so hard to accept we may have begun as ooze? Clearly we have, at least externally, advanced well beyond the ooze stage. Quite an accomplishment I’d say. Something to be proud of, an answer to why we are here, maybe found in evolution’s constant drive to improve. Talk about work ethic. Survival of the fittest is both a fact and a nightmare. It can be used to make the world a better place and a means to destroy useless art and beauty.

Slowly Galen started to make sense of his visions of the future as gawel’s life began to unfold in reverse. He did not need to know the words to understand the strangeness of the turn the world had taken. Clearly the people of this future world were in trouble, well before the massive explosion had taken their wrong turn back to square one.
“Grandfather the people will lose their hope and dreams; they will lie awake at night and not sleep. And walk as zombies in the day.”
“What’s a zombie?”
“It’s a word the poet used to describe people who walked around like they were awake, but really they were asleep at the wheel. Don’t ask about that one.”
“I believe I understand. It is like some Lakota people I once met. They had despaired with the constant coming of the White man. They believed their lives were over. In many ways, they were right.”
“Did they lose hope and stop dreaming?”
“Yes. They drank too much firewater and like you said became zombies. The walking dead, my father called them.”
“Do you talk to your father?”
“No. he died at the hands of a White man, in a terrible way, he lost his soul. Now he wanders in the treetops and roams among the clouds searching for the soul that was taken from him. He was scalped.”
“I don’t know who is crazier, the white men today or the ones of the future.”
“Not all white men are crazy; you can not judge a man by the color of his skin. You must look into the soul of each person you meet and see their true nature. The ones with love in their hearts will be your friend and help you on your journey. And you in turn will help them.”
“Is there a way for me to help this man gawel? The future is so far away, I can see and hear him, but he hears so many voices, that aren’t even there. How can he hear me?”
“I hate to be the one to tell you this Son. You are Gawel.”


Omega of a dream

The treatment was of course never called the treatment. It was a top secret program that targeted the best and brightest. A rather surprising high percentage needed very little turning in order to adhere to the company line. After governments faded away, The Corporations ruled as much from below as above. They infiltrated everything. Nothing was left to chance. They truly covered all the bases. From cradle to grave became much more than a slogan or cliche.
Ah but Gawel was a special case. He was the classic mad scientist. He actually was very close to a cold fusion solution. It just so happened, that cold fusion was not on the agenda.
The tests that he designed for Cern were sabotaged. The data he compiled was corrupted. The voices implanted in his head were meant to steer him in the Right direction. Sure he put up some very impressive arguments. The debates that went on inside his brain were widely circulated among the Elite. Best seller list stuff. Only those with the highest clearance had access.
“This data has been changed.”
“No it hasn‘t. The data is the same as yesterday, just another blind alley. “
“I tell you, it is not the same calculations I made. Yesterday all my questions had the right answers. There was a breakthrough.”
“How many times have you said that?”
“Who the hell are you anyway?”
As a younger man, Gawel could easily go without sleep for very long periods, and then take a two hour nap, and then be right back at it, hard at work. His mind was clear and precise. But these days, it seemed he couldn’t get enough sleep. And when awake his mind wandered, away from the one thing that most consumed him. He began to tinker with a simple equation. Before he even knew it, he had solved several detonation problems. He expanded the payload. Hell he had quadrupled it.
The Boys in the Tunnel had severely messed with gawel’s mind. They were constantly drugging him with everything they had available. And they had it all. The long sleeping jags, they liked to call them, the “Brian Wilson Effect”. They all could hardly wait to take their turn at supplying the many voices they filled into gawel’s ever fertile imagination. It was not that long when real hallucinations took over. The Boys in the Tunnel soon had to look for better, newer toys. The treatment was just getting started.


Dream a little dream

Moonglow Chavez won’t be her real name. That will be her stage name. She will be an exotic dancer by night and a librarian by day. Gawel will meet her at the New York City Public Library.
At first it will be like all the other librarians he will meet. She will protect him and help in his research. Then one night while wandering the city streets Gawel will stumble into the place that she becomes someone else. We won’t know her real name. Her fellow librarians won’t know her secret life at night. She will be sweet so and so. They will never suspect. How will they? I won’t tell. I don’t even know her real name.
Moonglow’s main act was to come out in a nun’s habit, dancing to the theme song from “Going My Way”, as each bit of cloth was dropped to the floor, Moonglow slowly transformed from purity to pure beauty, an easy transition. Skin so white, ivory fails to suffice in describing it. Her hat, if in fact that is what it is called, is removed last, thus revealing long glimmering tresses of red. A vision of both innocence and lust, she the innocent one, the watchers being lust.
Except for Gawel, He saw his protector, he literally saw her in a new light, strobe to be exact. He thought of his librarians as big sisters, he the little brother. They fed him when he was hungry, found books he couldn’t find on his own, kept the bums at bay. This was a Sister of a different color. Black now white, Snow White, Was he to be her Prince? He watched the entire first show from the shadows in the rear, she never saw him. It was still early, only 11pm, there was sure to be another show. When Moonglow left the stage, she went directly to the dressing room, not stopping to talk to the lusters, not currying their favor. No lap dances for this Flying Angel.
Gawel moved closer to the stage, not to eye the next dancer, he hardly noticed when she pressed her breasts to his face; he barely realized he had slipped a five in between them. All his thoughts were of, no not cold fusion for once, just Moonglow. Moonglow. He did know her real name; it was clearly printed on her nametag at the library. But he isn’t talking. He’s dead. Remember.
“Wow!” Galen woke with a start. That was odd. Galen had a much better handle on the strange, curious and unusual now. He was reaching his eleventh summer. He knew of course all about the librarians. Thought he knew all there was to know about not-Moonglow.
Boy was he mistaken, pleasantly so. The summer had begun to cool, but he was quite warm when he awoke suddenly. Then he recalled his thoughts just before he fell to sleep.
Feather on Rock. She was the youngest daughter of the Medicine Man. She was in training to become a medicine woman. He was well aware of the woman part. Feather was more than a year older than he, a little taller and closer to maturity. Yes. She had very noticeable breasts. Galen was in love. For the life of him he could not fathom how Gawel could not notice breasts being pressed to his face. The piece of paper called five eluded him as well.
Galen had not forgotten that Gawel was his future self. But he chose to think of him as someone else. Someone strange, sometimes wonderful, someone doomed. Each night brought new visions; he jumped in future-time now. He saw Gawel as a boy, as the crazed mad scientist, who kept pushing a red button and at various points in his life. Now it seemed, a new part of Gawel’s life was about to be revealed. He seemed almost human.

Just a thought by a poet.
The more aware one is, the more aware one is of being responsible. Unless one really messes up, being at fault doesn't really apply. There is cause and effect. God is the cause, we are the effect. Our effectiveness relies on being close to the cause. When we drift and fall asleep, we are like marbles banging against each other, random, no real meaning. When we become the agate of our dreams, we shoot lights out, become responsible, affect all we touch, even those we don't, everyone is connected, the aware feel the connection, feel the cause and become the effect. This is pretty good, just a thought.

As much as Gawel had hidden in the shadows out of embarrassment, he was now front and center for Moonglow’s next show. He very much wanted her to see him, and for he to see her again. As her name was being announced, he suddenly decided to order a beer, something he had never done before. Gawel ate very little, drank only water and slept only during brief naps. Never ate meat. Thought about cold fusion 24/7, but tonight was different. Moonglow had changed one habit for another. She came out for this show dressed as a Native American. Very soon feathers began to fly. The song was “American Woman” by the Guess Who.
It didn’t take long for Moonglow to spot Gawel. She was surprised to find herself not surprised. She didn’t worry about his knowing her once secret life. He would never tell. He didn’t really know anyone to tell. As all the other lookers kept their eyes on her, she was really dancing only for one set of eyes.
Sweet.
“Hi Feather, what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?”
“Like you are braiding your sister’s hair.”
“You are getting smarter every day Galen.”
“I am going down to the river. Would you like to come with me?”
“Why?”
“Uh, I don’t know.”
“Then I don’t know either. Go away.”
Smooth.

When Moonglow’s dance was over, she did not go straight to the dressing room as usual. Instead she went to where Gawel was sitting, took his hand and led him to the rear of the room amongst the shadows.
“Well, now you know my secret. Can you keep a secret?”
“Who would I tell?”
“The people at the library, they wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m not sure I do. Why do you do this?”
“I love to dance. I love to dance naked. No one really bothers me. The extra money is nice. Did you see me in the nun outfit?”
“Oh yes. You were fantastic.”
“I am really glad you came tonight. Would you like to come every night?”
“What about my work? I was just taking a walk to clear my head and stumbled in here.”
“I think it’s about time you took a little break. Cold fusion can wait a little while longer can’t it? You need a change of scenery. How about taking a trip?”
“With you?”
“You are kind of silly, aren’t you?”

Galen went to the river alone. He stared at the water as it moved downstream. He began to talk to himself, aloud.
“She hates me. I love her and she hates me. What am I supposed to do now? “
“Hello Son.”
“Grandfather, I didn’t call you.”
“I know. I just thought you could use a little company, besides yourself. You seemed troubled. Let me guess. Feather on Rock.”
“Do you see everything?”
“No, of course not, I keep my eye on you though.”
“Why does Feather hate me?”
“She doesn’t hate you. I think she really likes you.”
“She has a funny way of showing it. She just told me to go away.”
“Women can be funny people sometimes. She might have told you to go away, just to see if you would.”
“That’s nuts.”
“Don’t tell her that. Wait a minute.”
“What?”
“Here she comes.”

Another thought by a poet
God said do not have any idols before me. To me it doesn’t mean that God is an idol. It means have no idols period. Even God, none, nada, zip, perhaps it harms the idolized more than the idolaters. To love and to idolize is not close to being the same.

Feather on Rock really did like Galen. Sure there was the vision thing. Most of the other children made fun of him, behind his back of course. Why did she tell him to go away? Just because he was being dense? Really he was just being shy. Can’t blame a guy for that, even though the summer is cooling down, he looks really warm and friendly, it’s really kind of exciting that he sees the future. Even if the future sucks, maybe he is crazy like most everyone says. There are worst things. He could be like his friend, Falling Dark Rock. What a dolt that guy is. Always talking about everyone has to help each other when times are hard. Times are always hard; we always help each other, what’s the big deal? I guess he’s not so bad either. He means well, I guess. Ah, Galen, there you are. Staring at the river again, God I hope you are not talking to your Grandfather. Now that is spooky.
“Hi Galen.”
“Hi.”
“Sorry I said go away. I didn’t really mean it. I just didn’t want my little sister to think I liked you.”
“You like me?”
“Sure. I think you are cool.”
“Do you even know what being cool means?”
“Hey, you tell these stories about the future, some of it is bound to rub off.”
“Okay. You must think I am a real nutcase. I mean, jeez sometimes I don’t even know what I mean.”
“It’s all kind of confusing. Isn’t it?”
“You’re not just talking about the future are you?”
“No. I have all these feelings. I don’t know what to do with all of them. There are you, my Father, my Mother, my little Sister, sometimes I want to strangle her.”
“What about me?”
“Well. I have this urge.”
“Urge?”
“Yeah, this one.”
Feather moved closer to Galen, leaned in close and gave Galen his first and sweetest kiss ever.
“That was nice. I mean, more than nice. Feather, I think I love you.”
“Whoa Cowboy. It’s just a kiss. Don’t get all mushy on me.”
“That was my first kiss. Was it yours?”
“Not exactly. Let’s see there was Rock and Many Paths. Luka and Patoka. Mmmm....oh yeah the Twins.”
“Stop.”
“What?”
“I don’t want to hear about all the guys you kissed. Was our kiss any different?”
“Yes. It was the sweetest kiss ever.”
Cool.


Lost Dream

The Poet is fading. I don’t even remember his name. I use to know all of his poems. Now there is only one.
Shadow on the Moon by a Poet

There’s a shadow on the Moon
Far away from dark and gloom
It is lifeless and still
Like all of us no less real
When you have doubts
Jump up and SHOUT!
Feel the shadow move

“Grandfather where is the Poet?”
“Who?”
“You told me his name when I was five.”
“I did? I don’t remember. Is he a friend of yours?”
“He was in my dreams. My visions.”
“You have visions? What do you see in your visions?”
“Grandfather what is wrong with you? I can barely see you.”
“I think I am fading. Yes, I am definitely disappearing. Who are you?”
“I am Galen, your Grandson.”
“My Grandson is only five summers old. You must be at least ten.”
“Eleven. Grandfather you are really scaring me, I can barely see you or hear you.”
“I am going fast, whoever you are, say hello to that Poet if you ever hear from him again.”
And he was gone.


Search for a dream

Galen was very confused. He still remembered Gawel all too well and he did remember someone who wrote poetry, except he couldn’t remember any of the poems. He had known them all. He was pretty sure that Grandfather had told him the poet’s name, but Grandfather was gone too. Nothing he tried could bring him back. Was it all just dreams and not a real vision? He was not so sure anymore. Maybe everyone was right. He was crazy in the head. Loco.
“Feather there you are. Do you remember me talking about a poet?”
“Sure. I really like some of it; some of it is really weird.”
“That’s strange. No one else could remember a poet; they remember the mad scientist and the crazy future.”
“Most think you are the crazy one.”

Moonglow and Gawel left the city that very night. Into the Catskill Mountains they drove, arriving at the now abandoned Concord Hotel as dawn was just breaking. A once thriving resort, it now was being over run by the local floral and fauna.
“This seems like a nice spot. What do you think?”
“Moonglow any place where you are at becomes a very nice spot.”
“You are sweet. So, you really are all work and no play. Aren’t you?”
“I am just dedicated to my work. I think it is important. Wouldn’t you like the world to have a cheap, clean energy source?”
“I am a cheap, clean energy source.”
“Oh I don’t think there is anything cheap about you.”
“Are you kinda lost without your computer and equations?”
“It’s funny, usually I would be, but with you I don’t feel lost at all. Wait. Did you just hear someone speaking?”
“I think we are alone now.”
“I hear a voice, it seems very far away.”
“What is the voice saying?”
“I think someone is calling my name.”
“Are you feeling all right?”
“I feel great, but someone is calling my name. I can’t explain it. But I am sure they are very far away.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Do you believe in reincarnation?”
“Yes, I do. But I wouldn’t think you would.”
“I don’t, or I didn’t. But I have been having some very strange dreams. Just two nights ago I dreamed that I was lost, but there was someone looking for me. This will sound very strange. I think whoever was looking for me, is in the past.”
“Oh cool. Maybe you are remembering a past life.”
“Maybe. This will sound even stranger, whoever was looking for me, was remembering me from a previous life.”
“Whoa. You are losing me now.”

The poet had fallen in love once. Head over heels, as it has been said once or twice. She knocked the socks right off his shoes. It was love at first sight. For him, and for her.
A smile that launched a human race.
Later she said things like this:
“I think about you all the time.”
No one had ever said that to him before.
“You are so exciting.”
He felt so excited, like never before, or since.
“A face with a view.”
And the world that he viewed now had a whole new look. It seemed a lot brighter, not so dark and gloomy, as it had once seemed. She had changed his life. And from the looks of things, it badly needed changing.
“You love everyone.”
“But, I don’t like just anyone”, he replied.
Later she said, “You will destroy me.”
The genie was out of the bottle. She may be right. This has to end. It is odd to think a manic/depressive would not be aware of a manic phase. It can happen. A building can go up in flames next door and you might not notice until the sirens came near. On the other hand, a depressive phase can be very subtle, gradual. It is easy to get knee deep in the “Big Muddy”.
Before you know it, you start gasping for air. You are so deep in a dark hole, the air is stale, or has no air at all. There seems to be no way out and it is like falling into a coma, you sleep away the years. You are lost and do not even know it.
It was the beginning of the end. Like a meteor burning brightly for ever so briefly, their star had shone, burned intensely, then burned itself out and faded from view and eventually from memory.
“What are you going to do now?”
He had no ready answers for that one. What indeed would he do now? He had no idea. He was lost.

“Feather, do you love me?”
“You know I do. I have loved you forever.”
“Will we ever find the poet again?”
“Give him some time. And maybe he will find you. Gawel found you didn’t him?”
“Yes, but he is insane. He only thinks I am a hallucination.”
“Are you so sure you are not?”
Then she burst into her own special brand of laughter, ran from his embrace, sprinting toward the river’s edge. He followed. They embraced again. They lay down together in the grass. Made love and forgot that time even existed. Forgot that the world was going to end as they know it. Forgot everything. But themselves.

Moonglow and Gawel were lying together too, still clutched together in their passionate embrace. But they remembered, they remembered it all.


Found dream

“Let me get this straight. You are an eleven year old Cherokee Indian boy living in 1887 Oklahoma. And you want me to help you find who? When?”
“We have gone over this before. When you die, your soul will be reborn in the body of a poet, somewhere around 1950. When he dies, his soul will be reborn in my body in 1876.”
“And you are calling this retroincarnation.”
“It is a word that the poet used.”
“You know all of this sounds pretty fishy. Why should I believe a disembodied voice?”
“Oh, just a voice is not enough for you. Well watch this.”
Galen had flown in his dreams many times. He had never tried to fly in his visions. He was flying now, not through space, but through time.
“Wow! Are you real?”
“I don’t know. But you see me that must be worth something.”
“Okay. What am I supposed to do?”
“I’m not sure. Try calling to him.”
“Call him what. You don’t even know his name.”
“He is you and you are him. I am him and he is me.”
“Koo koo ja boo.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Listen, you are the one with visions, I only have hallucinations.”
“I don’t think that they are so different. You have got to try; I think he is in some kind of trouble. If something happens to him, it could change everything.”
“I thought you wanted to change everything. Stop me from pushing the damn button.”
“I am not so sure anymore if I should try to stop you. It may not be the right thing to do.”
“Are you kidding me? We are talking about ending the world. That can not be a good thing.”
“As we know it. Do you really think the world is such a good thing, as we know it? My people were nearly wiped off the face of the world. In your time the world is run by evil empires. The
World has never know peace. The history of the world is nothing but a long list of hatred, murder, lying, slavery, bigotry, war, and more war.”
“I don’t want Moonglow to die.”
“Don’t worry. You will warn her. She will find a safe place and survive the biggest blast the world has ever known.”
“I don’t want to push the button.”
“They will make you. You won’t have a choice.”
“I do have a choice. I have free will.”
“Look. I have seen the future, it is not pretty. We have to start over. A new beginning.”
“I do have free will don’t I?”
“I don’t know. I am eleven remember. We have to find the poet. He might know the answer.
“Somehow he is the key.”
This is when a new vision began to appear. It was Grandfather and Feather.
“Son you are the key. Why are you turning away from the world?”
“I have seen too much.”
“Son I have seen far more than you and I have not yet seen enough.”
“Listen to your Grandfather”, Feather’s vision floated near Galen, “Has he ever lied or led you astray?”
“No.”
“Son, I have found the poet. His heart was broken and his Spirit was deeply wounded. He has abandoned the words of poetry, has closed his heart and mind. But you can reach him. Remember he is you and you are him. Open his eyes call his name; whisper these words into his ear.”
The old Indian Spirit came close to Galen’s ethereal ear, whispered for a moment and vanished once again, as quickly as he had appeared. Feather remained behind.
“Galen, the poet’s name is Glen. You remember his name now don’t you?”
“Yes, Feather I remember again. Now I see it was I that was lost as well.”
“Know that I love you Galen and you will never be lost again.”
“Hey kids remember me. Do you guys even need me anymore? I have a date with the hottest nun this side of Sally Field.”
“Gawel, I remember something my Grandfather told me once. My visions are of a future, they do not have to be The Future. You really do have free will and you can make you own future.”
“A future with Moonglow that is the one I will be pushing for.”
Galen and Feather began to fade.


The Dream is over

“The dream is over -- what can I say?
The dream is over -- yesterday
I was the dream-weaver but now I'm reborn
I was the walrus but now I'm John
and so dear friends you'll just have to carry on --
The dream is over.
-John Lennon-

“Glen. Open your eyes.”
“Who is there?”
“When you die, you will become me.”
“Say again.”
“Your soul will be born into my body after you die. My name is Galen, I was born in 1876.”
“Aren’t you going in the wrong direction?”
“I am sure you have heard something like this before. There are more things under the sun and stars that fit into your philosophy.”

A poem by Galen

“Ode to Feather”

Feather on Rock stood alone beneath the stars
Searched the skies for Mars
But only found the Harvest Moon, full of orange and twice its normal size
She looked past the moonglow and wished for a bigger prize
She looked far and wide for a heart that was true
From the many she found a few
Her Father taught her wisdom, her Mother gave her strength, but it was Galen that showed her Love
Then in her ears she heard the birds sing above
Through her eyes she saw her Love, tall and strong
From that day to this, for him she did long
She gave away her dolls
And only listened for his calls
He picked for her some flowers, to show her a sign
She spoke to her dreams and said, “It is him I want to be mine.”
They met each night thereafter, by the river, under trees
And now it is plain for anyone who sees
Feather and Galen are as one
Just like the Earth and Sun


A poem by Gawel

“What I know about Suicide”

If successful
“You’re gonna die.” -Chris Rock
She cut me once
She cut me twice
She cut me
Well it was “just” the twice
They were deep cuts
Once to the bone
Once to the quick
Whatever that is
Suicide is not always painless
Often a great deal of pain will lead up to the act
Painless comes after
Nothing trails pass
Void becomes blank
Empty is everything
I am full of shit
But I bleed like a Mother


A poem by Glen

“I think I am paranoid” -Shirley Manson

I have suspicions
The dark is not more powerful than the light
The dark is pervasive and 90% of the Universe may be made of dark matter
When two atoms fuse a Light is produced
Some scientists say that gravity really is not a force -- it is just an implication of the four dimensional space we live in
An electron moving in a constant magnetic field at right angles to its motion experiences a force that makes it follow a circular path
When protons collide at fixed crossing points, they combine to produce an intense micro-fireball, which will shoot out hundreds of new particles
Thus Shining Matter is added to space

I suspect that life is not a dream
And dreams are not life
Dreams are a wish, or a hope, or just a way to pass the time
Some dreams are nightmares
Nightmares are a fear, or a memory, or just a way to scare ourselves

I suspect that the Universe will expand and never contract
The expansion will end when the last Sun burns out
When the last Sun burns out, it really will be the end
There will be nothing left
And nothing is what we started with

I suspect that there is something after death
It is like nothing we know now
We do not know much
Thoughts represent some kind of energy
We are all Light


I suspect that Galen is a figment of my imagination
Even so I can not explain who his words came from
“It ain’t me babe.” -Roger McGuinn / The Byrds
Gawel is just a future version of my mad mad youth
“Everything I say is a Lie.” -Captain James T. Kirk / From Star Trek episode “Nomad”

I suspect that the Cubs will win the World Series this century
Oh wait a minute
That really is a dream
Wake me up when it is over
The dream is never over until it is over (Yogi Berra paraphrased)

You can look it up.

Epilogue

 “Always look on the bright side of life” - Monty Python

I do not believe a word he said. I do not think he spoke at all. How could something like that be possible? Not everything is possible. It’s just my imagination. It was just a dream....just a dream.
“Glen.”
“You again?”
“It’s okay. I found a way to make things work. You don’t have to believe I am real.”
“You understand, I just can’t.”
“Don’t worry about it. Everything will be okay.”
“What do you mean will be okay? Was it okay?”
“I have to go now; I have a lot of work to do.”

I can tell you that I have never heard his voice again. I could tell you that I have never had a vision. I’d like to tell you that he did or will find a way to make things work. As you may or may not see, things don’t seem all that okay at the moment. Anyway, the real shit doesn’t fall for another 500 years. We have some time to kill.

“I’ve seen fire and I’ve seen rain” -James Taylor


“A LITTLE INDIAN BRAVE WHO BEFORE HE WAS TEN
PLAYED WAR GAMES IN THE WOODS WITH HIS INDIAN FRIENDS
AND HE BUILT A DREAM THAT WHEN HE GREW UP
HE WOULD BE A FEARLESS WARRIOR INDIAN CHIEF

MANY MOONS PASSED AND THE DREAM GREW STRONG UNTIL TOMORROW
HE WOULD SING HIS FIRST WAR SONG
AND FIGHT HIS FIRST BATTLE BUT SOMETHING WENT WRONG
SURPRISE ATTACK KILLED HIM IN HIS SLEEP THAT NIGHT

AND SO CASTLES MADE OF SAND
MELTS INTO THE SEA EVENTUALLY

THERE WAS A YOUNG GIRL WHOSE HEART WAS A FROWN
BECAUSE SHE WAS CRIPPLED FOR LIFE AND COULDN'T SPEAK A SOUND
AND SHE WISHED AND PRAYED SHE WOULD STOP LIVING
SO SHE DECIDED TO DIE
SHE DREW HER WHEEL CHAIR TO THE EDGE OF THE SHORE
AND TO HER LEGS SHE SMILED
"YOU WON'T HURT ME NO MORE"
BUT THEN A SIGHT SHE'D NEVER SEEN MADE HER JUMP AND SAY
"LOOK A GOLDEN WINGED SHIP IS PASSING MY WAY"
AND IT REALLY DIDN'T HAVE TO STOP
IT JUST KEPT ON GOING

AND SO CASTLES MADE OF SAND
SLIPS INTO THE SEA EVENTUALLY”

-Jimi Hendrix


“There is freedom within, there is freedom without
Try to catch the deluge in a paper cup
There's a battle ahead, many battles are lost
But you'll never see the end of the road
While you're traveling with me
Hey now, hey now Don't dream it's over
Hey now, hey now When the world comes in
They come, they come To build a wall between us We know they won't win”
-Neil Finn / Crowded House

“You can look, but you can't touch
I don't think I like you much
Heaven knows what a girl can do
Heaven knows what you've got to prove

I think I'm paranoid
And complicated
I think I'm paranoid
Manipulate it

[Chorus:]
Bend me, break me
Anyway you need me
All I want is you
Bend me, break me
Breaking down is easy
All I want is you

I fall down just to give you a thrill
Prop me up with another pill
If I should fail, if I should fold
I nailed my faith to the sticking pole

I think I'm paranoid
Manipulate it
I think I'm paranoid
And complicated

[Chorus:]
Paranoid
I think I'm paranoid

[Chorus:]
Steal me, deal me, anyway you heal me
Maim me, tame me, you can never change me
Love me, like me, come ahead and fight me
Please me, tease me, go ahead and leave me

Bend me
Break me
Anyway you need me
As long as I want you baby it's all right

Bend me
Break me
Any way you need me
As long as I want you baby it's all right.” -Shirley Manson / Garbage

The story continues
Eventually