Dreaming Dervish

August 22, 2013

In the midst of “daily residue” dreams, this transcendent scene:

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I’m standing on a stone ledge overlooking a large square shadowy chamber entirely filled with women who line the walls all around. My bare arms are extended before me, like a Spanish dancer holding castanets poised to begin the performance, only what I’m holding are two pieces of very fine gray cloth approximately two inches long. There is an air of expectation in the chamber, and semi-lucidly grasping what I’m supposed to do, I begin flapping these strange pieces of papery cloth up and down, up and down, so that they make a loud snapping/clicking sound. The center of attention, I fall into a steady rhythm that gradually picks up momentum, and there is no question what I’m meant to do next. I leap gracefully down into the center of the open space the female congregation is facing, and begin spinning in place, all the while maintaining the rhythmic beat of the ethereal “castanets”. My skirt billows around me but it is no ordinary earthly skirt, it is a transparent gold dotted with darkly shining red circles like rubies. I spin in place faster and faster, like a female dervish, until my momentum becomes such that I begin rising slowly off the stone floor. All around me the women may be clicking/clapping in rhythm, I can’t be sure because my thoughts are dissolving in this twirling motion indistinguishable from worship which is inexorably escalating and intensifying. Still spinning and completely naked now, I arch my back as though over an invisible bar, spread my arms and legs as wide as I can, and surrender myself, opening myself up completely to the Powers that Be, which take the form of a fine yet almost searing ecstasy rising straight up through my body. I begin climaxing so intensely, I wake in the throes of an orgasm, my right hand just barely touching myself. The pleasure was generated in the dream space and overflowed into my flesh.

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