Bottled Dream

Bottled Dream.

I awake amidst a deserted open air market near a booth stocked with beautiful colored glass bottles of all shapes and sizes; short rounded bowls, swollen jars capped with shiny brass lids and tall fluted vessels in blue, yellow, red, green and violet sing as the breeze swirls past full lipped openings. The quiet silence yields to the soft melody, the wind’s voice bending around and over what it must to find expression and being.

I lift my gaze from the nearby booth and look far down the row of market booths seeing them almost tip into the sea clinging to the shoreline with distant silent flapping of white cotton curtains fluttering in frantic attempts to hold their balance. Hundreds of small pitched tents line the shoreline.

No one is there.

No one is here.

I seem to be standing near the last booth of the long market. I notice the colored glass overspills onto large flat stones dotting higher just behind the tent on what appears to be the beginnings of a steeper slope shouldering the land mass against the ocean. Fresh blue green foamed and salted air smells cool, fresh and clean. I breathe richly, bringing the air deep into my body.

Refreshed, I am drawn towards the large outdoor stones covered with shaped blown glass. I feel the breeze rushing about in invisible eddies becoming visible as it lifts my long dress feeling the material soft and thin brushing gently higher on my knees then lifting higher still to my thighs now fully exposed. I feel my body being softly caressed by the wind in its wanton self expression. I have the sudden urge to undress and be part of this beautiful sensual experience.

I leave my clothes in a soft crumpled pile on the ground against the side of the booth and continue forward to the stone tables beyond.

As I step away from my clothes, I become more aware of my outward nakedness feeling more openly exposed as I move further from the offered modesty of the market booth and the soft pile of clothing resting silently against its side. A sudden worry rushes forth but as quickly melts away as I continue forward. Anyone could see me taking this liberty of indulgence in my pure and simple nakedness as I wander about this Eden in an excited feeling of complete freedom.

I move closer to the glass covered stones feeling excited and vibrantly aware of my lucidity. It is then that I realize I am dreaming. Dreaming a dream I’ve had before which I have come to know quite well.

I touch the cool hardness of the stone granite sparkling in the sun’s brilliance. The bottles beckon me to touch them too. Lifting a tall slender vessel shaped in beauty, my hands clasp its thickness and feel its full weight warmed by the sun.

Closing my eyes, I bring the smooth glass to my body cradling it between my breasts feeling my heart beating a soft rhythm against the vessel. Uncontrollably, my hands move the glass down my body as the rhythm quickens. My legs weaken and I lean back against the stone table, the coolness of the granite touching hard against my bare skin. I begin to yield to a sensuous rush of feeling. Waves of expression build inside me trying to crest, yearning to crest higher, and higher still before beginning to tumble over falling and falling then crashing powerfully in deep gushing with quivering flows outward over spilling everything with intense feeling.

Gasping, I open my eyes breathing heavily. Now fully awake and feeling vibrantly alive in this world, I realize I am in my bedroom. I smile softly knowing I will dream that dream again and again until I learn its meaning.