A Shabbat of rain, hot chocolate and classical music has pulled my mind into light and darkness, along with a vague feeling that I am missing something very important that is passing by. However, my windows into the world merely observe soft rains and mists, and an uneasy silence.
A decade ago, a door clanged shut with the finality of a prison door, and an authoritative voice announced in a dream, “We shall not pass by this way again!”.
Time and distance has soften most of my hypnagogic dreams, some now to obscure to notice. But this voice still clearly rings in my thoughts and dreams this day. We shall not pass this way again. In what way shall we not pass again?
Maybe I do not wish to know.