We all get them from time to time I guess. The night so filled with dreams, vivid in imagery and intensity that we sit straight up trying to force them from our heads. Last night was one such night for me.
I'm a bit groggy today, having roused myself at something like 5 AM after a few cycles of trying to clear away the dreams and find inky dark sleep. I dream a good bit, sometimes about things form my past, sometimes the dreams seem to be a bit predictive. I've never written them down, or really tried hard to remember them. Usually they just fade away like the darkness running from dawn.
Last night's were full of color and energy, burning candles blown out in a darkened room that forced me awake, thinking I smelled smoke. A large white cat that I tripped over in a in a shiny, hardwood-floored hallway which clawed gently at my bare foot. A half-closed door beyond which I am certain my parents slept. A window, filled with a deep blue sky, luminous with millions of hard, cold stars, the ground below suffused oddly with reddish moonlight. The window image was strong enough that it seemed to stay there on the far wall of the bedroom even after I opened my eyes and shook my head.
Finally, fitfully back to sleep, the sound of a plastic cup clattering in the sink, loud enough to wake me again and force me to wander the dark house looking for the offending item.
There was nothing.
At that point I had had enough and roused myself to peruse the overnight news, review medal counts and read a library book.
Where did it all come from? I have no idea really. White cats seem to represent all kinds of things, some good and some not so good. Candles, as well, seem to mean all kinds of things as well. In the end I guess they could mean anything I want them to mean. Or they could just the the idle workings of a mind trying to create things for me to write about. If so, it worked!