To Blossom Blue

Where the sweet waters flow,
Where the mistletoes grow, reminds me of you

The dream was real, thin and spiralling through my body. Reality twisted and snapped, causing my yearning for truth and beauty to focus on the nearest point in the universe, which a little while ago was light years away. Shadows disappeared, and I was blinded by burning balls of plasma, or possibly by illusion.

I wanted to be fooled. I wanted to dream on, to be able to feel again, to be present for a while, after so many years of absence. There were numerous tangled paths, all leading to the same spot, just like the Philosophenweg in Heidelberg. I wanted to reinvent the joy I experienced in another life, as a different person, with the same stupid heart.

The target was serenity and wisdom but I chose to get there by being wild and reckless. When asked to find a picture representing "my other me", I came up with a skydiver with an open parachute against a red sunset. Wild freefalling before, serene gliding after, divided by the second of pulling the handle. I was frozen right in this moment of pulling the handle - maybe I wanted to prolong the orgasmic flight through the air, to look death in the eye. It winked.

I knew I had grown and become calmer and wiser with the years. The wrinkles on my face were meaningful to anyone who knew me. I had played against insurmountable odds, and had won, mostly. I had more space in my consciousness than before when I had thought of myself as 'spiritual'. Some tiny thing in my mind, however, was the same as always. Dreaming of a glimmering path towards the stars, of eternal love, I smiled.