A Dream of Soon to be Now.

Something inside me is pushing outward, stretching at the boundaries of that which holds it fast. I want out, but I'm not in. Checked out, bags packed, waiting for a train that never comes. Standing on an empty platform deep inside and far away from the body that is and is not me. Pushing, straining, stretching, yearning for a freedom that never comes. The embriotic sack that seperates me from myself hardens against my outstretched hands encumbering connections with all that lies beyond. I feel a hand against mine through the opaqueness. I press against it and it presses back. I don't recognize this feeling. Is this the formulation of connection. I dip my toe into the Lake of Souls and find that the water is still cold. I want to go for a swim but I don't want to get wet. The hand feels warm against mine. Inviting. I want a deeper connection. I push harder. The water is cold, but the hand is warm. Give me more. I gather all that I am into my hand and push forth with the energy of me and a small light penetrates through the barrier and finds connection with it's like in the hand beyond. Help me. Show me the way. Words born in light. The pleading of a lost soul. I see light building in the space beyond at the center of the connection. The light burns through the blackness carrying with it that which one word often belies, that which is stronger than any word can convey, that which gives purpose to the universe. I seem to recall a simplicity in its power. The barrier melts before the power of that which was lost but now is found. The answer was there all along and I had been blind to it. The hand was now clasped in mine and I find it to be my own. Love. I remember how to love. I see myself and become one. Whole. The train has finally arrived and I embark for destinations unknown. I take a seat and look out the window toward the approaching horizon as my baggage, left behind on an empty platform, fades away into memory.