She is merry as she offers me a serving of her strawberry shortcake. "I can give you the simple recipe if you'd like," she adds. Afraid I've taken too much from her already, I walk with her to the door. She is now only a head speaking from the golden brown wooden floor. I lean down but can barely hear what she softly asserts: "God told me to give as much to others as they need."

Thinking about this dream--of which this poem is almost an exact transcript--pulls me into an intense inner eddy. I wind around and around, exploring the issues of being needy, being needed, and then just where are the limits of helping another person.

By the way, the "other" woman in this dream is an actual minister I knew at the time of the dream.

'til next time, keep dreaming,

Roswila

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