A musical moment

 

The Farmer came walking.

 In my dream, my love and I were going somewhere together, and she briefly had to meet with someone, so I was left to my own devices for a bit. I had a guitar with me, one I had built. I noticed a barnyard nearby with a mixed group of animals, cows, donkeys, horses, sheep, and so I thought, "I'll go and visit the animals, and play some music together with them."

I wandered into the stall area, amidst the manure and flies, and several dogs came barking and wagging their tails. I wondered for a moment if they would threaten me, but they were smiling and friendly. I strummed a bit, and then began to move on from there. The barn was cluttered and I had to carefully weave my way out to avoid banging or scratching the guitar on posts and gear hanging from them.

As I made my way out, the Farmer came walking through to tend his animals. I thought, "Uh-oh, I'm kind of trespassing," but he walked on by me, saying in passing, "I'll bet that guitar makes some fine tones."

I was gratified and grateful that he didn't seem to mind my presence. "You can go on through wherever you want." he continued. There was a dirt road curving through the farm , so I said, "I'll just stay on the Road."

I'd seen what looked like a camp or settlement a distance away down the road a hundred yards or so; it made me think 'buffalo skinners' or gypsy-like migrants. So I said to the Farmer, "I'll go down and check out the pioneers down there."

"Okay, that's where our people are staying right now", he said. "Go ahead."

In the settlement, folks were arranged in a large rectangular open area, like a flea market, on the ground. There was an perimeter with single family groups defining the outer edge of the camp, and an inner grouping of many folk, with a wide path in between making a circular route around.

I began walking the path and playing and singing a song amongst the din of the crowd. I made a point of not locking eyes with anyone, while still being sure to look briefly at individuals and acknowledge them with a smile and a nod.

After I'd made a circuit, I stopped and was approached by a man holding a small folding card, about the size of an iphone, which I gathered was a talisman or channeling media which he used to download whatever he was to say or pronounce.

He started talking smack about my guitar, saying it wasn't real, pointing out its flaws. I then noticed did in fact have damage on one side, it had nail holes and scratches. Perhaps back at the animal stalls, I surmised, it had bumped against some sharp farm implements. I wasted no time in setting him straight about the bona fides of my instrument. "That's real nickel fret wire and that there is logarithmic scale for a baritone guitar."

He then proceeded to hold his little board up to my face and head, I guessed to do some juju on me.

But I brushed him gently aside and a giddy feeling of inspiration came over me. I began talking loudly about our need to lift our hearts and minds to the Spirit and the Light, addressing to the whole encampment, with elation, joy and freedom.

Suddenly, I remembered and said, "I'd better be getting back, I think someone might be looking for me."

And then I awoke. It was 5:43 a.m. when I looked at the clock. My love was sleeping soundly beside me. I lay there thinking about my dream for a while, until finally it was time to get up and let out the cat.