What treasures are you bringing to me? I asked of them.
For that is the meaning of children in a dream.
They are never still, busy, running, climbing,
jumping, skipping, pushing, touching, breathing,
hugging, crying, laughing, and through it all,
wide-eyed with expectations.
Expectations and Anticipations.
For they believe,
that I have it in me.
They want me to bring them to life.
Bring them to life?
What a huge responsibility!
“But you can do it.” their anticipating gaze pulled at me.
“But you are so many.” I cringed away from my destiny.
“Yes, we are.” They chorused in giggles.
“And there are many more of us. There are zillions of us where we came from, and if you bring us to life, many more will come, and they will keep coming and coming and coming and coming . . .”
I am the wide-eyed one now,
not in expectation but in terror.
I had wondered before in my waking mind
‘what would it be like to have 365 children,
One for each day of the year?’
Terror! Abdication!
But they could read my thoughts.
“No silly,” they giggled again, as they jumped, skipped, hugged and kissed,
And yet some were in the tree that I didn’t see before.
“You will stay and embrace us, and we, we will take care of you.
All you have to do is hug us and listen to us.”
“That is all?” Skepticism!
“Yes, silly,” they chorused again, and they were touching me, breathing on me, shoving me, pulling me, jumping on my knees….
