Faith

I am always hearing that people's dreams reflect their life and what is going on in their life. Sometimes I can see that in my dreams.

Sometimes I can't.

Last night I dreamed I was an eight year old girl living up in the mountains with my mama and papa. I had two sisters and the lady down the mountain had one son. She'd often say about him, "He's underwater agin, meditatin'." I could picture him lying down near the murky bottom of a pond among the water plants, hands folded on his stomach.

But as for me and my house? Mama kept rattlesnakes. She said they wouldn't hurt nobody if we was good. Papa walked gingerly over them, but I know he didn't think Mama was right. I was scared of them. Scared they'd come at me from under the old chest by the door, or be hiding under the bed when I cleaned the floor. I tried to have faith, but having faith that something will go against its nature felt foolish to me.