Naming Dream Index

• brightwater
• collision songs
• dances to destruction
• firelight at dusk
• loam
• moondark mist
• sweet feather
• glint of mica

In the deep, she is still - so still, so quiet. She looks up, eyes still unseeing and there is nothing but pressure and the sense of being deep, deep down, under water.

Eyes open, she peers up from the crystalline depths - in her eyes, she sees the brightness of the sun, shimmering and clear across the still surface of the deep, deep water holding her body weightless and safe.

Rays of light reach down, stroking her flesh with filtered warmth; calling down, calling her up. Up from the dark, up from the deep, the pressure. Up into the brightwater.

Life and Death. Day and Night. None and Many.
All around, shapes that chant and drone, hum and trill -

hooves drumming, Motherfather's mighty heartbeat.
A cacophony of voice and tone, sound and silence
collide.

He dreams. Light pierces through clouds to illuminate the lush greenery. He leaps and spins, twists and bows to flowers and trees. As he moved across the meadow, the greenery wilts, browning and dying behind feet so light and elegant; the clouds began raining ash down, filtering the light stabbing through. His head tilts and he whirls as a dervish; destroying all behind and killing all before.

He realizes what has happened, slowing for only a moment before regaining speed, even going faster. He was dancing to destruction.

Crickle-crackle burn-burn-burn,
the day is long and nightfall comes
a Mother and Child are resting.

In the waning light of day something calls,
tickling ears so young and new they have yet learned
the sound of fire eating.

With unsteady limbs and bleary eyes,
he wobbles away from Mother's warm side
to gaze at embers dancing.

Gleaming-glowing embers dance in the fading light,
one lands softly on his nose and turns to ash
darkness completely falling.

Ember's bite burns flesh brightly,
singed forever and scarred is he
back to Mother for soothing.

Colors dance along flank and scale heedless of damage done,
Pure dark skirts the edge of fire's dance-floor,
firelight beautifully singing.

Sand and silt and clay
Leaves fall further and rot
What remains is l o a m

Turn from the sun, o strange one!
Brought low by the tides of Selene --
All drawn tight to shadows.
Mist wafts upwards to hide what your words mean.

fluff and feather
cherished sweetness
candied ambrosia
softly weighted
all rest upon her brow

Spoiler

Note: Glint of Mica's naming dream is an image of mica rock(s) edited in PS.