Masumi's Dream

Masumi's Dream

Mr Masumi had a dream

In his dream he was sleeping

Through a faintly opened window

a dimmed light penetrated the

inside, somehow

humming a note of silence

On his walls, a maelstrom

of ants, moths, centipedes -

some were walking in lines

other just standing

still

as if happy

with that –

obscured the meaning of life

outside

the dream

Mr Masumi told us, then, that

was everything

he remembered from the

dream

Until yesterday

Mr Masumi visited me at

work. He held a gracious look

in his eyes an intense

juvenile luster

A few days before, he

had been blessed with a few

more inches of the film

he dreamed. At first, he was afraid

all that insect paraphernalia

would have killed him

in his sleep or maybe left him

bleeding over

his white linen; but no -

at this point, he took another sip

of his black coffee and I

couldn't help noticing how surreal

it suddenly got:

no longer at my office

instead, there was a round table, outside

just near a road, but no traffic

the landscape resembled something familiar

dry, arid, with angular objects

fitting across the fields as

beasts waiting for the

prey

I had a wine glass filled with coffee, too

It was a pleasurable afternoon -

amazingly – he went on -

all the ants

formed lines, so consistently moving

in their trails

movement, slowly, got erased from perception

and then one ant fell to floor -

he made a painful gesture

and a clashing sound -

then the second ant, the third

they were falling as if the dream

for them

had come to an end

This scenario went on for a while

I was scared as hell, though

my other I, the one sleeping in

the dream, looked like

an angel

I wanted to get closer to

my self

and feel how it feels

even if just in a

dream

but the ants kept falling

and walking

and on the walls, now

it was clear

words were being shaped

in the gaps

ants left

There was no time

to ask him the obvious question

In this exotic story, not even

Masumi's shadow was real

I finished my coffee, which by now

tasted as wine and

moved back into office

Above my desk, two

clocks displayed time

fighting for attention with

a sense of humor

However it was a folded

paper

stuck into my keyboard

I grabbed and opened

first

The message, balancing

before my eyes

- as a phantom -

Keep dreaming

Signed, Masumi.

© 2015, José Eduardo Coelho