Real dreaming is something we do together. That is why it is better to love and to lose, to argue and part, to misunderstand and make up, than not to love at all. In the night we dream together – everything we have experienced in the day and which might have driven us apart comes together again in a union. This is particularly true when we are concerned with questions of how to make the world a better place. Idealism often seems fanciful and good intentions meet with defeat. But if there is genuine goodwill then the differences are carried over into the night-time world and are solved or absolved in united vision. That is why it is important to persevere.
This theme is apparent in ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ by William Shakespeare. Differences and disputes in the earthly, practical world take on unearthly, elemental proportions. Healing is effected in the night during a great mutual dream. Interestingly, it is the touch of a little herb or flower which makes the difference. It has the power to restore balance where all sense of proportion has been lost.
Nature gives us the image of flowers – especially in the midsummer period – as a living reminder of all the forces which are transformed in the night into harmony. Bees are servants of divine, solar harmony on earth. They believe in a practical divinity. They give expression to divine idealism in a way which is entirely precise and efficient – just as precise as our human memories are vague and our idealism diffuse.
To heal the world we have to combine practical and divine idealism – a difficult task when there are constantly forces which pull us apart. But faith in the deeper, invisible power of dreaming can overcome these problems.
Sometimes my brow seems as broad as two fields
done with harrowing and planting, just green.
Then perhaps its surface is undisturbed
for a season and no claims are stronger
than that made by solitude and its peace.
Yet in growth we are all pitched together
and the dark golden night, a field of stars,
is broader than any single dreamer.
And it might be you’ll hear my thoughts there
as I hear yours, yet in the cool morning
imagine you are hearing only bees
gathering sweetness from moistened blossoms.
The clover and ragwort and buttercups
on my roadside are vagrant memories
of how we breathed together in the night,
wishing for a new world when we awoke.
But human beings choose practical starlight
over ethereal and douse their dreams
in daily gathering of light and fuel,
forgetting the moment of communion.
The roadside flowers will not forget a thing -
how else could they be worshipped by the bees,
for whom divinity is practical,
as precise as our memory is vague?
Best wishes, today,
©Jay Landar 2013. All rights reserved
You are welcome to quote from Light on the Page on the condition that you cite the author and the source: Author: Jay Landar. Source: www.lightonthepage.com. For other permissions please contact the author.