lost in the wave

I’ve had about three thou­sand tidal wave dreams in my day. 

In last night’s ver­sion, by a nice turn of luck, I was stay­ing in a Goldilocks-per­fect cab­in by the sea, rest­ing bliss­ful­ly. I was so com­fort­able! It was heav­en. When I got up to look out­side, I no­ticed stuff where it shouldn’t be all up the hill­side in front of the cab­in. Had a wave al­ready washed over me as I slept? I turned to see the big one com­ing, more a press of high wa­ter (as they are) than the loom­ing, arch­ing, crest­ing gi­ants of yesterday’s dreams. Though wor­ried about my pass­port and cam­era in­side (proof of my iden­ti­ty sure­ly soaked and lost al­ready), I scram­bled up a tree, much like the first one here – but the height of the sec­ond –, and watched the world get en­gulfed. Lat­er, every­thing was where it shouldn’t be. Cities were in gar­dens. Man­u­scripts were lost in the flot­sam. Peo­ple were stum­bling around like sleep­walk­ers, call­ing out for one another.

I’m hop­ing the mes­sage is that it’s pos­si­ble to rise above dis­as­ters if you act quickly.

Maybe it’s that we’re all gonna lose every­thing, no mat­ter how com­fort­able we are.

Maybe it’s just a dream and we’re not ru­in­ing this beau­ti­ful planet.

In my es­ti­ma­tion, this world IS Heaven.

Shame on us for not tak­ing care of it like it is (as it is) the most glo­ri­ous and pre­cious of gifts.
 
 

—lau­ra hohlwein

Flom­mist Lau­ra Hohlwein is a con­tem­po­rary ab­stract sur­re­al­ist. Copy­right © 2018 Lau­ra Hohlwein.

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