I don’t dream often.
I mean, I dream in the wishing sense that basketball players tell you.
“Dream, big! You can be anything you want to be…”
Like that.
But, in sleep--the type of dreams my people call reveyons—those dreams rarely ever happen to me.
Unless someone is speaking to me.
I had a dream on Sunday night. And for a non dreamer who dreams, it was a heavy one. I’ve been trying to put it together in my head for the past few days. I have stewed over it and gone to sleep early about it, praying each time beforehand that my grandmother would come again and expound. I even took a nap about it, impatient to find out what it might mean.
Let me tell you the dream…
