11-02-2011, 12:00 AM
This dream evolved from looking at maps in a before dream. I saw a cold area of the world, it more or less corresponded to the Baffin bay of Canada and out all those tundra islands, and stretched narrowing to Alaska. This was someone’s kingdom, or rather land to be cultivated. In part I traveled with/as the caretaker. A quiet and non presumptuous man. He knew he had a house to tend in those lands, but he kept putting it off. He was pursuing another, to learn, to see, to observe? This other at one point was burrowed under the sub artic forests of central Canada, and looked like a range of mountains and hills, this other was slowly burrowing for some reason. feasting on roots? On the perma frost? The caretaker/king gardener was unduly obsessed with watching that one. He was greater then he? different? a friend? an enemy? it wasn’t too clear.
In time seasons came and went, and the king always found a reason or was preoccupied and not in his land. Finally, in time, he visited his lands. These are the cold land of many dreams. sometimes near the artic circle, and yet not frozen. always in the 50's in the day, and wet, with overcast sky. A cool crispness maybe low 40's. lots of dew on brambles and thick leaves. High grass and herbs and deep green forests. Also not places where anyone has lived, where no cities have been built, no people who raise children. always near the sea, and in summer, the summer for those places. Winters would be nothing but snow and ice. And here, was this gardener/king’s home. It was a old grey stone manor type house from the 17'oos. In the gardens their were broad leaf trees and fountains, but it was still. No family had ever lived there The keeper had waited so long families had grown old, his family that were supposed too occupy the house.. In the center of the great room, there was a simple grey block of stone. From it sprang two clear spouts of water....it gave the impression of a small case m, but the center was overlapped also the center was a arch too. this water ran down the stone and into the ground in a pool around it, and was the source of all the warm and life for trees and grounds. But again, it was weak and not used much by then.
He came to the cold lands with his new wife. She seemed nice enough, not bad in any great way. But it wasn’t the wife he had when the place was created. that wife was more stout and cold like a stone. not as a personality, just a feeling of nature. the new wife was blonde and thin, more appropriate for lands of sun and wind, not clouds and fog and snow. she thought the palace was damp. There were old leaves inside, it looked never used and fallen into damp decay. So he sought to change it make it warmer for her as he set to clean it. This was a final transgression? Last straw? he just showed up and tried to change things for wrong reasons not allow the seeds that were planted to grow. He and she and I, if I were a separate person which I don’t know, are now in a court like a broad auditorium. Its not old stone and antique. Everything is metal and plastic ish but nicely done....the future. Court was in session as soon as they/we arrived. The prosecutor was a man, but also like two tapeworms that were born as a Siamese twin with feet. Still human ish but also like that being in a hood. (He reminded me of the nuns that lived in the planetary sea under the ice at the end of time. The blood on the water ones) The prosecutor walked down the isle with all the assembled beings, and started naming wrongs. The first, and only one I saw, was simple. The king had left his true wife waiting, in lands to warm, as he pursued the being under the ground. They had a daughter. The cold land wife grew old and died, while he pursued his thing. he never moved them to the house. Their daughter had grown old, and always waiting for her father, for the home promised, just out of reach. He had forgotten them, and now they were no longer reachable. But that daughter had grown obsessed with her father coming home, and was stuck like that forever? long time? She saw him, in the crowd, and smiled full of contentment that he was finally there. But he was quiet, he smiled back. because he had forgotten. that they waited in time. She looked dissimilar to the prosecutor spirit of the lands waiting for tending. There was more but that’s all I could hold I fade out.
Now the king was back where the manor was. but it was gone. It had been built for reasons that were no longer valid, for a family that had passed into time as he pursued the great mounds in the earth. There was an impression in the permafrost, and nothing more, where the great manor had stood. I asked him he said gone. the power it was created from has been withdrawn. I was there, and a few others. The sun wife iS THER, BUT NOT AS A BEING OF SUN AND LIGHT, JUST A NORMAL PERSON WHO HAD Forgotten. There were a few other mismatched people as well. The king was finally in the cold lands, but the house, the fountain was gone. So he said we must build before the winter comes. there was lots of sawing and hammering, rolling of logs, building a framework. We were making a small, squat, ugly building like you might find in Alaska...built on a platform no foundation because of permafrost...tar paper walls and wood burner chimney. I had great trouble fashioning the A frames to make the roof, getting angles to match. But the quiet king always knew how to do carpentry tricks so I made the basic frames he joined them made the angle cuts and we built the roof rapidly on the walls. We climbed down to the spot, the whole house was being built where the stone block and fountain of the withdrawn stone dwelling had stood. I asked where shall we get water? there was a grey sea some ways off, but no streams that flowed to it year round. He said dig. dig under the perma frost to the groundwater...200, 300 feet. Allot of work but he started that. The now no longer sun wife said, "I never really trusted the ^^, it could stop at any time". but the carpenter was quiet and did not respond. lost in thought as he always was now. We worked and worked to get those building done. winter was coming, quickly. like in hours. And it would be long and harsh, as the manor was now gone, which defined the seasons there, not as moderated in its fury. but after much toil, and before the night came, the clouds broke open to reveal a patch of sky like an eyes slit. From it poured warmth. not just moderated cold, but warm sun like 80 degrees, so warm and loving on chilled hands and faces. I guess we all laid down on the rejuvenated grasses and herbs near the front of the shack. For some time, absorbing the warmth, that was love, and also perhaps forgiveness. or love even after a curse or punishment or loss. I was the first to rouse from the grasses I saw the eye or clear space closing the warmth starting to decline in intensity.
I shook the arm of the carpenter who was king, and he slowly moved himself and found his chisel and hammer. Was the sun wife gone? I don not know. Now it seemed to be only the two of us maybe a third form who wasn’t ready to wake. I saw the carpenter smile, as he set out to finish preparing for the winter to come, to finally finish his contract and construction In that place. Even if in a not as great a form.
As I drew out of that place, in those lands, I was shown what became of his works. I saw first train tracks, long unused, that stretched up to where he worked from known places. there was a station, a train station, a Victorian style one. Painted and made, but it seemed never used, like the rail line. or only a few times. Here was a field, ploughed but fallow. There was the manor he finally built, a Victorian modest mansion but of wood not stone. Also empty. Here were some small cottages. there down a road paved with gravel, Was a small village of eight or nine buildings near the station. The lands were less cold, they were what they were when the original stone manor was graced to the builder by (god? Spirits?) The new structures held that function of the great stone manor. But it was also empty. the train tracks covered in dirt. no way to find it. No families ever raised there. I was told that was the only house ever completed in those lands, and it was never used. The builder I think was still there, asleep perhaps, maybe as a spirit. holding the things together. Perhaps for people to come. Perhaps for the wife who had died and daughter who had faded waiting for him to complete his works. Perhaps for the sun wife, or her descendents, when they had no other place to go. Or maybe as a penance. Be it empty and still, or full of life and growing, they were his lands, or he was theirs, and his duty was to be there. a duty that would be done.
In time seasons came and went, and the king always found a reason or was preoccupied and not in his land. Finally, in time, he visited his lands. These are the cold land of many dreams. sometimes near the artic circle, and yet not frozen. always in the 50's in the day, and wet, with overcast sky. A cool crispness maybe low 40's. lots of dew on brambles and thick leaves. High grass and herbs and deep green forests. Also not places where anyone has lived, where no cities have been built, no people who raise children. always near the sea, and in summer, the summer for those places. Winters would be nothing but snow and ice. And here, was this gardener/king’s home. It was a old grey stone manor type house from the 17'oos. In the gardens their were broad leaf trees and fountains, but it was still. No family had ever lived there The keeper had waited so long families had grown old, his family that were supposed too occupy the house.. In the center of the great room, there was a simple grey block of stone. From it sprang two clear spouts of water....it gave the impression of a small case m, but the center was overlapped also the center was a arch too. this water ran down the stone and into the ground in a pool around it, and was the source of all the warm and life for trees and grounds. But again, it was weak and not used much by then.
He came to the cold lands with his new wife. She seemed nice enough, not bad in any great way. But it wasn’t the wife he had when the place was created. that wife was more stout and cold like a stone. not as a personality, just a feeling of nature. the new wife was blonde and thin, more appropriate for lands of sun and wind, not clouds and fog and snow. she thought the palace was damp. There were old leaves inside, it looked never used and fallen into damp decay. So he sought to change it make it warmer for her as he set to clean it. This was a final transgression? Last straw? he just showed up and tried to change things for wrong reasons not allow the seeds that were planted to grow. He and she and I, if I were a separate person which I don’t know, are now in a court like a broad auditorium. Its not old stone and antique. Everything is metal and plastic ish but nicely done....the future. Court was in session as soon as they/we arrived. The prosecutor was a man, but also like two tapeworms that were born as a Siamese twin with feet. Still human ish but also like that being in a hood. (He reminded me of the nuns that lived in the planetary sea under the ice at the end of time. The blood on the water ones) The prosecutor walked down the isle with all the assembled beings, and started naming wrongs. The first, and only one I saw, was simple. The king had left his true wife waiting, in lands to warm, as he pursued the being under the ground. They had a daughter. The cold land wife grew old and died, while he pursued his thing. he never moved them to the house. Their daughter had grown old, and always waiting for her father, for the home promised, just out of reach. He had forgotten them, and now they were no longer reachable. But that daughter had grown obsessed with her father coming home, and was stuck like that forever? long time? She saw him, in the crowd, and smiled full of contentment that he was finally there. But he was quiet, he smiled back. because he had forgotten. that they waited in time. She looked dissimilar to the prosecutor spirit of the lands waiting for tending. There was more but that’s all I could hold I fade out.
Now the king was back where the manor was. but it was gone. It had been built for reasons that were no longer valid, for a family that had passed into time as he pursued the great mounds in the earth. There was an impression in the permafrost, and nothing more, where the great manor had stood. I asked him he said gone. the power it was created from has been withdrawn. I was there, and a few others. The sun wife iS THER, BUT NOT AS A BEING OF SUN AND LIGHT, JUST A NORMAL PERSON WHO HAD Forgotten. There were a few other mismatched people as well. The king was finally in the cold lands, but the house, the fountain was gone. So he said we must build before the winter comes. there was lots of sawing and hammering, rolling of logs, building a framework. We were making a small, squat, ugly building like you might find in Alaska...built on a platform no foundation because of permafrost...tar paper walls and wood burner chimney. I had great trouble fashioning the A frames to make the roof, getting angles to match. But the quiet king always knew how to do carpentry tricks so I made the basic frames he joined them made the angle cuts and we built the roof rapidly on the walls. We climbed down to the spot, the whole house was being built where the stone block and fountain of the withdrawn stone dwelling had stood. I asked where shall we get water? there was a grey sea some ways off, but no streams that flowed to it year round. He said dig. dig under the perma frost to the groundwater...200, 300 feet. Allot of work but he started that. The now no longer sun wife said, "I never really trusted the ^^, it could stop at any time". but the carpenter was quiet and did not respond. lost in thought as he always was now. We worked and worked to get those building done. winter was coming, quickly. like in hours. And it would be long and harsh, as the manor was now gone, which defined the seasons there, not as moderated in its fury. but after much toil, and before the night came, the clouds broke open to reveal a patch of sky like an eyes slit. From it poured warmth. not just moderated cold, but warm sun like 80 degrees, so warm and loving on chilled hands and faces. I guess we all laid down on the rejuvenated grasses and herbs near the front of the shack. For some time, absorbing the warmth, that was love, and also perhaps forgiveness. or love even after a curse or punishment or loss. I was the first to rouse from the grasses I saw the eye or clear space closing the warmth starting to decline in intensity.
I shook the arm of the carpenter who was king, and he slowly moved himself and found his chisel and hammer. Was the sun wife gone? I don not know. Now it seemed to be only the two of us maybe a third form who wasn’t ready to wake. I saw the carpenter smile, as he set out to finish preparing for the winter to come, to finally finish his contract and construction In that place. Even if in a not as great a form.
As I drew out of that place, in those lands, I was shown what became of his works. I saw first train tracks, long unused, that stretched up to where he worked from known places. there was a station, a train station, a Victorian style one. Painted and made, but it seemed never used, like the rail line. or only a few times. Here was a field, ploughed but fallow. There was the manor he finally built, a Victorian modest mansion but of wood not stone. Also empty. Here were some small cottages. there down a road paved with gravel, Was a small village of eight or nine buildings near the station. The lands were less cold, they were what they were when the original stone manor was graced to the builder by (god? Spirits?) The new structures held that function of the great stone manor. But it was also empty. the train tracks covered in dirt. no way to find it. No families ever raised there. I was told that was the only house ever completed in those lands, and it was never used. The builder I think was still there, asleep perhaps, maybe as a spirit. holding the things together. Perhaps for people to come. Perhaps for the wife who had died and daughter who had faded waiting for him to complete his works. Perhaps for the sun wife, or her descendents, when they had no other place to go. Or maybe as a penance. Be it empty and still, or full of life and growing, they were his lands, or he was theirs, and his duty was to be there. a duty that would be done.