A Dream in Transit (5 October 2013)

[A Walking Meditation on the Feast of Saint Francis; 4 October 2013]

- Montague Whitsel

Walking alone in solitude in the woods,

I met Francis at a stream,

where he was crossing

stone to stone and mud to sand

near the cross-hairs of immanent transcendence. 

I said “hello_” tentative in presence,

but it was a dream,

and I was walking awake in the world!

I haven’t seen or talked with Francis

for a while_ I told myself,

as the dream continued to play out

before me. 

Francis was playing

at the stream’s flux and flow,

dancing from ripple to trough,

selflessly laughing to himself_

unaware of being watched

from such a far-stationed nearness.

On this side of the sídhe, I yet could hide.

He grasped a fish in both hands,

and stumbled forward off a stone

on which he was standing,

recklessly aloof_

laughing as he bumbled forward,

splash after muddy splash,

with the fish wriggling in his hands.

“I have become a fisher of fish!” he cried,

in a cornucopia of denuded joy

that was as infectious as his laugh!

I laughed, too_ and the dream faded from view.

And there in the aftermath I was left_

standing in the stream

on this side of the sídhe,

feeling completely revived and re-inspired_

to become what I am at my best.

I wept for this impromptu meeting with Francis,

and cherished each frame

of the dream-sequence_

‘til I had imbibed it so fully –

burning it

into the celluloid of my own soul –

that I could perhaps

re-enact the film myself as myself

someday along the Way. 

Amen.