Wake up, Suzy, put your shoes on, walk with me into this light, oh

Finally this morning, I'm feeling whole again, it was a hell of a night
Just to be with you by my side, just to have you near in my sight
Just to walk a while in this light, just to know that life goes on..."**

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.

Wake up. Walk with me into the light. Just to have you there by my side. Just to know that life goes on.

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

Like you did last night.

^{** Credit James Taylor, "Another Day," Hourglass album, 1998. Link: [10]}

#presence

Wake up Suzy, walk with me into the light

Could a Cloud