Leprechaun Story 7
He got up early in the morning to see if he could find the mines, on another day, fresh and new. This time he found himself in the wetlands.
Wetlands at the Arboretum
He followed a stream and came to an opening where he wondered about going in, not sure if it was the entrance to the mine or not.
There were some strange symbols in blue and green at the entrance, which made him wonder if this deep place was already taken over by an unruly crowd. He looked down and saw a ring in the bottom of this opening far down.
He never was good with symbols and directions and decided to walk along the stream and to have his nap before he could decide about going into the mine. He found a lovely patch of clover and lay there eating some clover flowers, the better to sleep with and to dream. May be his dream would be helpful to him.
While he was dreaming he found himself on his wife’s quilt on his bed and he kept slipping off the bed.
The slippery quilt
He reached out for her but it was no use, he was still slipping. She reminded him, in the dream, that when her dog died years ago, she dreamed he slipped away, even as he tried to hold on to her with his paws, to no avail.
Monty dog as a pup
He decided against going back to the opening he found earlier with the symbols, as he decided his dream was full of bad omens and going home was the best option.
On his way he saw a huge white bear, that looked depressed and when he noticed it was sitting on a rock on what looked like his wife’s quilt, he did not tarry but stayed close to the water and ducks, who seemed friendlier.
This time he sang his song about “We all love each other already and we are all the same” on his way home. When he got home he found two musicians’s to play it for him.
In his audience the old dwarf woman was polite and said “oh really” in a lisping way, and the man said that it was all very well for a song but he did not see it that way and that man’s wife said something rude out the side of her mouth, about her anatomy not being the same.
In the audience
His wife was too busy to listen as she was now in the midst of making a new quilt with appliquéd bears on it.
The start of a new quilt
That night he brewed up some of the clover he brought home and slept soundly and happily: tomorrow is another day he said to himself.
Clover field
The last thing his wife said was that she was happy he had put that rope back in the basement, as she was sick of seeing him carry it about everywhere and of finding leaves in her bed.
The end.
When Rose woke up the next morning she had a dream of a huge volcano starting up in her trunk and exploding, one two three, as it climbed up through her. She was thinking nuclear, as the image of the bomb exploding came into her mind to go with the dream. It was accompanied by huge sounds, thunderings, and waves of energy traveling, as it went up and up through her, in every direction. She was not sure where it stopped but her ears and throat was sore, as she pondered the dream, the next morning.
She felt her old self even as she wondered if she would be changed forever by such an awakening. When she realized she was the same old Rose, she found some clothes she had worn yesterday and wandered out on to the deck to sip some tea and get on with the day. She watched the crows in the top of the pine, where they had a nest.
Rose looking at the leaves on the quilt.
When she made the bed she noticed some dried out leaves lying between the sheets and wondered how they got there. She had been cutting the hedge a few days ago, but still it was a little strange that she only noticed them this morning.
And if you have some dreams about birds that fall apart, or find yourself in a boat with a hooded monk who pulls up questionable questions from out of the water, be sure to find me and I will involve the arts, and ask my own questionable questions until you laugh and until you pray in new ways, as those are your very own symbols, coming to greet you. Then you will be unlike the Leprechaun above, who was not able to read his own symbols, writing on the wall.
Writing on the wall
Love from Rose,
Rose Longworth Counseling 