Kaleidoscope of Reality

I dreamt of a street intersection of a small US town, perhaps near the the beginning of the 20th century. There were just some widely-spaced single-family homes in the area, a church nearby, nothing special. Each dream followed someone or some group of people destined to meet at that intersection. There was a father and a daughter returning from a trip to the hardware store. There were two teen-age school girls on their way home. An aunt escorting her nephew and niece. About a dozen people in all. Each time some party reached the intersection, I’d think, wow, I recognize this place, then the dream would jump backward in time, hours or days, to follow another person or group of persons.

The last time I approached the intersection as a disembodied observer, I could recognize everyone, I thought it was so beautiful that I wept. I realised that, in the matrix of their time-lines, these people would approach and withdraw from this intersection, like some mind-bending kaleidoscope, forever. Reality is a giant hyper-dimensional crystal that gives the illusion of internal movements when you look through it from different angles. It was so beautiful, so awesome, I wept and ended up waking myself.

In the seconds after waking, my memory evaporated like haze in the morning sun. Yet, I felt that I had accomplished a great thing: I had seen beauty where I had never thought to look for it, and I was convinced that if I thought about, rehearsed it, wrote about it ⚊ some small part would stay with me.