Wake up Suzy, walk with me into the light

There was a ghost in my dream last night - my lost sister. She was real again, dressed in bright green, alive in another reality, standing in the Victorian-adorned living room of my youth.  She swayed as I stepped into that room and told me how tired she was; she'd been out all night. 

How unlike her, I thought. But you're here again, and that's all that matters. We were together again in that other universe, living as divine sparks, still there but sharing a different reality. My mother was in the kitchen, and I could hear her washing and stacking dishes. All normal, all different.  

This was another day. Not here, but there. 

This morning, in this universe, the morning arrived without her again. I thought of her in that somewhere else, waking up too, in her new morning. Maybe she was also thinking that it was a helluva night. 

Was she showing me a glimpse of her, alive in that other space? If so, then do our divine sparks always exist - in pasts and presents and in different universes, each with its own reality?

Yes, I think so.

I see them as so many vinyl albums stacked together, waiting to be dropped onto the stereo. Each album is different, but the musicians are the same. As the needle touches the vinyl, the music creates the reality. Each universe has a different collection of albums, but the song lists and performers are the same.   

Show me you're whole again, there in that light. 

Like you did last night.