The Enchanted Brain

[monk222]

I dreamed a little of mother. Pop came home from work, still dressed in his white uniform and black jacket, and mother and I are doing some yard work. Nothing special. Like a real slice of life.

I recall hearing a long time ago that we dream a lot every night, and it's just a question of how much we remember and what we remember. I imagine that I must dream of mother often, as well as Bo, but the catch is recalling those slips of dream. It's a pleasant thought: to think that they are alive and well in my subconscious somewhere.

Comments

[hardblue.livejournal.com]

With all that dreaming, no wonder I wake up feeling tired sometimes! I wish I could remember more of them; they really help to spur reflection.