Climb, Until Your Dreams Come True
This is a dream that I had, Saturday, September 01, 2007. I recorded it at 5:14 am.
I was up in the back woods area of my home, Kincolith, with a few other men. We were in a gym like setting, they were playing basket ball. One of the men, also a Barton, my cousin, asked me if I was going to help them with the pilings. I didn’t respond as I did not know for sure what he was talking about, and, I knew inside myself I did not want to commit. I walked out of the building. I was walking with my nephews Donald and Desmond. We were walking through the ball field area and the water was very, very high. I looked at the old wooden boardwalk that went from the field to the main village and asked my cousin (although I don’t remember him leaving the gym with us), referring to the posts supporting the boardwalk, “Are those the pilings that you were talking about?” He said no, and as we were now walking on the boardwalk, he pointed to some pilings (poles) that were sticking out of the water not too far from our right, and said, “Those ones. Those are the ones we need to change.” They were just some poles sticking a few feet out of the water; there was nothing special about them. They weren’t very large poles either, rather short and thin. It was obvious the poles served some kind of purpose, as they were coated in creosote to protect them against rotting in the water. I looked, and questioned internally, as they did not seem to serve any real purpose. They reminded me of the poles in Venice on which gondolas are tied to. These were going to be dug up and replaced. I continued walking up the boardwalk. The waters were very high all around us, in a flood like state. At this point, I was again with my nephews Desmond and Donald; my cousin was no where to be seen.
As we were walking, the waters rushed against us covering the boardwalk completely, running just above our ankles. Now, it was just Desmond and I. We held hands to support each other- as the current was slightly strong; he was walking a step ahead of me. We were talking, he mentioned something and then said, “That’s what your dad would have wanted you to do,” increasing comfort as we continued to walk against the water. We were now off the boardwalk and on to a small, narrow, path of ice. Desmond was still walking ahead of me. He slipped; fell backward, and I caught him. He regained his balance, and I looked at him and said, “And I didn’t even step off the ice.” Rather strangely, a school bus went by, and one of the kids was looking out the back window, pounding softly on the window trying to get our attention. I looked; he shouted pointing toward the sky, “Look up there!” It was now dark.
To my amazement, in the sky, just above the mountain was the most amazing sight. Stars flowed and danced as if tied to a string, joined together at one end and flowing outwardly in many strands; like Christmas garlands that sparkled with diamonds. Northern lights danced, and flowed too in the most amazing way, as rivers of emerald green- fading, then darkening, taking on the form of shifting waters being blown by the wind, as they formed from the mountain top to the sky. It was a most magnificent sight. I was now alone. I climbed what appeared to be a tree, to get a better view. I was now on an open plateau. The scene continued before me. I then seen a huge tree, it appeared to be a cedar. The upper part of it was all that I could see, as the lower part was engulfed by clouds. It spontaneously burst into flames. I could see the form of the tree as it burned, but it was not being consumed. The flames went from one part of the tree, to the other, as it burned, intensely; I could hear the sound that cedar makes as it burns. I looked toward the center of the fire; it was the most beautiful, yellowish orange, that I’d ever seen a fire burn: it was intense, passionate, and powerful. I knelt on one knee and stared, anticipating, and amazed. I remembered Moses and the burning bush, but there was no voice. The tree continued to burn.
Next to the area, was a tree, thin and flexible.
It appeared to be a young, hemlock tree.
From the edge of the plateau, I set myself on a branch of this tree.
I prepared to jump, but before I did, I reached for a note pad and pen/pencils that were beside me.
I jumped, using the flexibility of the tree to bring me slowly, and safely to the ground.
My dream ended.
Godwin H. Barton
