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Columns
Angel
I dreamed about an angel who brought me a
poem. About love and passion. About yearning.
The angel had no face, only a voice. And a laugh.
Yet I saw bird’s feet, and I sensed that wings
stirred the air. It was a strange dream. The sun
was shining, and there was snow on the ground.
It was warm and cold at the same time, and one
by one the letters of the poem were projected on
my mind’s eye.
The next morning I thought about the dream. The
watery sun was in no way like the sun in my
dreams, yet it had the same warmth. I decided to
have a cup of coffee outside. To absorb the last
rays of the summer. I closed my eyes and reread
the poem in my mind. And once more, and still
again. Until it got too cold outside and I had
to go back in.
That night I dreamed of a castle. A lavender
smell filled the air. Was this France? The
Provence? Children were playing on the grassy
fields. Big and small. I heard the breaking
voices of early teenagers, but also the shrieks
of children’s voices. A small, skinny boy walked
up to me and smiled. He wore a round pair of
glasses and walked carefully. I’ve seen this
little guy before, I thought, and sat down on my
knees to say hello. ‘Bonjour,’ I said, but he
shook his head. ‘Don’t you bonjour me, hello is
enough,’ he said smartly. ‘My name is Paflori,
and I am the knight of this castle.’ I was taken
aback. This child saw himself as a real knight.
‘Wow,’ I said, ‘a knight! Would you kiss my
hand, sir knight?’ Surprised, Paflori’s eyes
blinked, and he carefully took my extended hand.
His kiss landed in midair, exactly between my
thumb and index finger. Gallantly he made a deep
bow, and our heads knocked against each other.
When I looked up, I understood why this had
happened. This beautiful creature could not see
very well. He rubbed his head and granted me a
radiant laugh. As if he could read my thoughts,
he said: ‘Still I always go to school by bike.
Then I know the way exactly. Look, like this …”
and with his hand on imaginary handlebars he ran
in a circle around me and disappeared behind a
few trees.
The lavender air suddenly became stunningly
intense. The clear blue sky shimmered. I heard
crickets and sensed that I was not alone. But
there was no one to be seen. Suddenly I smelled
the pure Dutch autumn air, and playful clouds
drifted by. In between I caught sight of a long
festoon of words, and the wind whispered soft
but penetrating sounds that I already knew by
heart.
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Written on 15 September 2010 |
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