Monday Morning Musings:
Hums us into sleep,
Withdraws, and leaves us in
A place that seems
Always vaguely familiar.”
–Mark Strand, “Dreams”
“All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.”
—Edgar Allen Poe, “A Dream Within a Dream”
My daughter and I talk–
waking to plunge into the terror again
not being able to move, or scream
in the terror of the dream.
And I think of the young people caught in a school
and those elsewhere—the whirlpool,
the vortex of contradictions,
fight or flight,
rehearsing what to do if caught,
a nightmare over and over again
until some finally scream, “Enough! Be seen!”
we need to flee the terror of this dream.
I was child,
practicing the duck and cover drills
ridiculous, tilting at windmills,
but I remember being terrified,
petrified that my parents would not come for me
before whatever we had to flee–
a world ending with both bangs and whimpers—
and no way to wake
from the terror of the dream.
And so, how can anyone say these young people are tools,
they have seen the violence in their schools,
they have been forced to practice,
to dance with fear,
to hold it near,
and should their dreams die
before they’ve had a chance to fly?
We see a movie
about grief and guilt
from wars, built
stronger, lasting, flowing through generations,
the absurdity of life–
the solitary camel ambling to the checkpoint gate–
the soldier who dances the foxtrot with his gun
fun arising from boredom with surrealism fused-fate
that keeps us dancing and returning to the same spot—
as if in a dream.
And though the movie is set in Israel
where “the fallen” fall so often
that those who bring the news are prepared
to deal with the grieving and the scared–
they come with drugs and instructions,
attuned to this production,
the result of the war machine,
the resulting grief and tears it brings–
still what happens there,
could happen anywhere
where there is war
and where dreams are launched
with guns and bombs
prayed over with psalms,
and where they fall from the sky
We walk and talk
the day is still cool,
but the seasons are cycling
through the year—
and spring is near.
We see a wedding, groom and bride
attendants by their sides.
Though the fear is in abeyance here
the nightmare lasts,
we must lift our voices to put it past.
to see the light,
to see the sun,
the hopeful dreams, caught and spun,
Can we celebrate our fate,
move towards love, not to hate,
unparalyzed, with dreams awake,
wear hope like a perfume?
We arrive home–
to find some daffodils have bloomed.
We saw the Israeli movie Foxtrot. Trailer here.