A friend and I are reading and discussing Thomas Moore's book The Soul's Religion." The last chapter we discussed was about dreams and spirituality. This poem asked to be written.

DREAM SEQUENCE 2013 Last night I dreamed; A very familiar dream, A frequent nighttime companion. The details differ each time, But the theme never varies. I tell it to you As it’s been accepted by me: Interpretation unnecessary; Interpretation unwanted. Better to live in whatever it means Than try to figure it out. I am at university, the term is ending (My intuition tells me UNH, where I went, And in my dreams I am NEVER an adult, But always from about 10 years’ old To my late teens-adulthood is boring). In this case I seem to be as old As any of my dreams allow. My parents are here to retrieve me, And to pick up the stuff I’ve accumulated; Much stuff…I like my junk. I live in a dormitory with many others, Not in a single or double room, And my possessions are piled Around my bed; a shiny, glittery Mini-fortress. My parents wait, but I, uncaring Have other things in mind: The bookstore is having a sale That demands my attention- Here the details differ from dream to dream The truth is that I am never ready, Never there, whatever the cause, There’s always, to my thinking, a reason. And my parents leave, I return eventually-no folks. I am sad that they’ve gone And confused, not feeling abandoned, But puzzled. How do I get my stuff home? Last night I borrowed a friend’s cel phone, And when I went to call, Couldn’t remember the number, Couldn’t get it from information. As if when I went to university They’d changed the number Without telling me. Eerie. Other nights I borrow a phone, Or have my own phone, Or use the pay phone on the wall. But the results never vary I either can’t get the number, Or when I open the phone, Parts come flying out As if the phone were An old time pocket watch. That “explodes” when you open the back. Most times the phone breaks, I Mickey Mouse some repair, But still can’t find or get the right number. That’s where the dream ended last night. But most times, when this dream Comes to me, I abandon everything Without a second thought And start walking, and walking…. Towns are suggested to mind: Exeter, Portsmouth, Milton Mills, Central Mass towns, but my dream towns Look nothing like the actual towns: It’s only my mind, or what’s left of it. Eventually my walk might take me Home to Rochester, always Rochester,And sometimes not. If it does, the house has changed, And the people who are there, Who are supposed to be my parents, Aren’t anyone I would recognize; And the dream ends there, Unless it doesn’t, In which case I just keep walking, And walking, And walking……… Chip Bergeron 22 February, 2013