As I were a shepherd on a lemon sea..and then the dream shifted.
I had a vision. In that state I saw myself lying, a dragon atop my Eggs of Memory. I saw suns, stars and moons. I grew beyond. I saw the universe expanding, slowly, consistently. And I saw that for all its change, it was a single entity. It was a moment of revelation. Time appears to move but remains still. It expands but just is. It is mobile and immobile congruently.
Day after day alone on the hill,
The man with the foolish grin is keeping perfectly still,
I imagine all the people I am and I am all the people I imagine.
If I was to sit, my back pressed against one of the trees in the middle of Fitzgerald Avenue and watch the traffic, to be amongst it, what would happen?
For a time, I suspect, nothing much. People would drive past, on their own journeys. Whichever way I faced, I would have my back to one stream and my face to the other. Some would come from behind, while others would come toward me. Some might look up or to one side and observe me. Others would not. They might wonder why a man was sitting there. They would, no doubt, draw their own assumptions about why I was there and a few might wonder who I was. Almost all would make some kind of judgement. He is a nutter; he is homeless; he is a druggie or he is mad. In doing so they would affirm their own beliefs. They would pin their own illusion on me, or attempt to do so.
I might do the same. but I would try not to.
