The Dream of the Levantine

The following is based on an actual dream the author had, with small embellishments to fit a cohesive narrative. 
The dream itself, the procreation of the unconscious will of the mind, was at its genesis a mere nothingness of all things, formulating a lack of comfort, need for retribution, wholeness, and the emotional depth that is formed within the common creed, but yet upon its entry was pulled to such an emotional extremity that was, in an unwittingly detestable way to the common boundaries set by the mind, representative of its vivid ideation, maintaining a provision that was, of its physical nature, likely envisioned by my own consciousness, but limned by a mind that was far more grasping of its materialism than my own. It began as I, while still in a state of prolonged slumber, awakened from a certain need of completion, desiring the material comfort of an unknown power, who had bestowed this willingness upon me by an immaterial, invisible, but yet palpable hand likely of a human proportion, but of an inhuman circumference. It was not a measure of immediacy that I desired this comfort as I did not make the conclusion as to my situation, or my location, but rather I reminisced on events that were likely, within the assumption that this material world was of roughly the same sociological intent and logic, and supposedly recent, but yet I had only a faint recollection of events in passing and those abroad, as if the measure of prediction, encompassed within all minds, was indifferent to a grasp of oblivion that was, of its representation, an immeasurable content of existence, having nothing beyond the color of a starless constellation in the night sky, yet concluded by an essence of protruding sorrow, as if the darkness lying beyond my current vision had, like the hand before it, provided me with such ambivalence so as to lie unto me a temptation willed into the barrier of all things envisage. 
And it was, at the hesitance to make the realization of my location in the aftermath of the contemplation of the events surrounding, that I opened my eyes, which until this point having been enclosed to the point where all in front of me was a visible blur, maintaining a color similar to that of a blasted heath, the ashes of which having fallen to the ground below me, as another tinge, which was the texture of blood illuminated by an artificial light of an unknown source, made its way into the left-hand side of my peripheral vision. It was by a sudden sense of alert that I ended the encapsulation of my vision, and in the process making notes of my position, not just by location but of my own stature within what was materialized within seconds to be a cave. As such, my noted physical position was that of an amalgam between a vain prayer, and that of a fetal child in a mother's womb. It was at this moment that I began to grasp my own surroundings within this cave, which had been decorated with inscriptions by distant ancestors showcasing the hunting and capture of animals, and of the epiphanies that were present in the folklore of the Exodus; the plagues of Egypt, the deaths of the newborns, the multitude of the hornets, and, yet abruptly within a placement that hinged upon surrounding events by a bare aptitude of significance, a precursor to these events was present at the very start of the cave, where the radiance of a misplaced sun had given way to an enlightened inscription which presented, in a dichotomy of detail to its faded counterparts, a small and stout warrior standing atop the corpse of a large man clad in Hellenic armor, raising his blade as an offering to the heavens above, or as a proclamation as to his dominion. Below this painting, in the area matching the position of the warrior, read a name, which in symbolism of both Semitic and Latin alphabets, read the name "Elhanan, son of Jaare-oregim." It was not given the name of the larger warrior whom he had apparently slain. 
I had initially refrained from an attempt to move from this position, but I found the courage to after the remnants of the previous sense of alert had given way to a inevitable contingency, as I suddenly discerned that I had been carrying with me two scrolls, not made of sapphire or lapis as in the manner of the Mosaic commandments, but rather, papyrus with subtle enhancements of linen to allow for uncomplicated writing on them. Both were tied together by a small strand of leather, suggesting that it had been such a desperate effort to preserve them, and a necessity to give myself protection from some unwanted and malevolent force, given that I had been in my previous posture. In front of me, in an approximation of around two meters, was the entryway to the cave. The sun glistened through the entryway to only a quarter of its latitude to my position on the gravel floor, and dimmed sporadically in the presence of erratically-moving clouds, which were moving in such a nimble fashion that their briefly protracted shadows at the entry made resemblances to humanoid figures partaking in actions that were both inane, erotic, homocidal, and by a repetitive fourth, sadomasochistic. I was not guided, nor as aforementioned willed into the belief by any power that this cave was for the tormentors of the tempted, but I was instead struck with yet another feeling of alert that drove me to make haste outward from the cave. I lifted my head, and noticed above that there were indeed clouds moving in such an unruly, but unnoticeably quick fashion, and were in such a close vicinity to the ground below that they gave credence to the idea of a heightened elevation, but the surrounding plains, which extended into a finite, but undesirably long and afflictive direction, seemed to contradict this assumption.
The sky, while having elucidated the interior of the cave by its outer gray hue, sustained a crimson color; though the clouds, moving in a mindless daze, retained their white configuration and color. Though its presence was felt, and the clouds never seemed to block an entry of natural light, I could not detect the location of the sun, and at no point while gazing upwards did my eyes restrain from its presumed influence. I felt a great wind coming from the east, making it a travesty to retain the scrolls I carried with me, and through its punctured whistle which overturned shrubs around me, I heard the distant sound of tribal horns, and voices chanting in an unknown, but familiar language. I began my stroll through the desert, and it soon became apparent that the voices, and the horns surrounding them, had their origins in the fluctuating noise of the wind, and I pondered whether or not it was a beckon, or a warning of impending terror; though my consciousness provided no explanation, it implied it would not have concerned me, however, had it been both. Calls of innocence, mercy, and desires to commend spirits unto angels began to appear in the eastern wind, which had become lesser in effect, but had not changed direction from when I had first encountered it.
While it is inherent, to any passersby or to anyone who would encounter such a dream without its implications on the established psychological conditions, that the only present sensation would be that of apprehensive fear, or animosity towards an unknown force, this dream was by its nature devoid of any content emotions; it was entirely blank, to the same monotonous effect of patrolling a grass field on a leaden day where the sun was bereft of its position by overbearing clouds. These conditions were of the same equivalence to my pattern of thought; for while I held mild curiosity in this dream, my emotional setpieces were overall vacant. It was only at rare instances in which this sentiment faltered, for as such, it was only once where I had encountered an anomaly within the landscape that had emboldened my faint disparities. The voices of the ignoramuses, and the irreconcilable desires by them to be uplifted to heaven from this unholy desolation, had by now faded into other directions, as the wind soon began to stall upon an unseen barrier. And in the everso far distance I made a discovery of sight, not of sound, and distinguished a chapel, if not a synagogue, designed visibly in mudejar plasterwork. I made the supposition that the direction in which I was headed in was northwards, for the eastern wind came from my left, and all sensations of direction came from that region. I continued towards the structure, and it was, unlike its counterparts from its era, made entirely of the materials surrounding it, consisting of misshapen stone and driftwood from a distant sea. However, to its redeeming feature, at the top of the largest obelisk at its centre, was a large fused Eilat gem, which coruscated and illuminated faintly the landscape surrounding it, and appeared to provide a causation for the digression of the crimson sky above, for none of the turbulent clouds made any attempt to move into a circle aloft from it, where the sky had taken a lighter blue hue.
In an area where the portions of the ground had been less elevated, thus creating a small mound of desert, I observed as two figures followed my movements; their inner features were indecipherable, as they both wore capirotes that were of a darker composition to the hue of the sky above. My tread made contact with the archway, and I ventured inside the building as the doors opened at the endeavor of my presence, but yet by the same unseen force which appeared to open them without hesitation. The church was austere in its construction, and there were each six rows of six seats on each side, divided by a circumference of only a meter. After I had gotten beyond the entry, whose low height had obscured the true overhead of the interior of the building, I noticed that in the area where the gemstone had been visible, and the area roundly circumambient to it, was no longer apparent, and instead through the rooftop could I see the sector of the sky that retained a blue configuration in defiance to the blood that surrounded it; the psychological signals of the dream informed me this was a sign of fertility, but there appeared to be no clarification as to what form of fertility it made reference to. In the front of the synagogue, I refer to it as such because I recall that there were symbols of its mysticism within it, there were three hooded men, whose faces were visible, but predictable to their inventories and attire. They were all men older than sixty, though their voices appeared invariant to their age, having a youthful lisp to their tone of speech. Behind them, inscribed into the wall above, was a diagram of the mystic Kabbalah, and each of its realms enlightened by the invisible gem above.
I began to unravel the leather tying my scrolls to one another, and bowed unto these lords as I presented them forthwith, in the hopes that such a proposition would mean redemption by their hand; but what I desired to be redeemed from remained uncertain, even long after I had awoken from this dream. Each of them slowly discarded the top of their hoods, and the one in the centre took the first scroll, and read from it in a whisper as the other two observed. The language they spoke was not English, nor any language met with fluency from modern generations as I had expected. It was not this sector of conversation that I have a recollection of, though I made the evaluation that the dialect was ancient, but in many ways of Semitic origin. While still bowing to them to provide assurance of my peaceful intentions, I gestured for them to read the second scroll, which they silently declined to partake in. Instead, they requested, not ordered me to stand on my feet in front of them, as the man who had read from the scroll approached me slowly. I made out his features, which were of a skin color darker to his counterparts, and his hair was by its texture similar to wool. He then gazed upwards, and delivered a monologue, which, as aforementioned, was not in English, but the coordinating signals of the dream indicated the meaning of his words.
"Exalted and Sanctified be His great name, in which the world was created according to His will. By His name we end our tread, and by His bosom we lie our head. May it be your will, O my God and God of my fathers, that You Shall speedily rebuild the Temple in our days, and give us our portion in your Pentateuch, so that we may fulfill your statutes and do Your Will and serve you with all our heart." 
The robed man then took two steps back, and gazed at me before stating: 
"So that when bread and water fail, every man may fall against his brother, and they may pine away in their iniquities, yet, nay, thou shalt not fear the condemnation of humanity; any enemy who tries to harm the brethren of Israel will be destroyed by the fire that comes out of their mouths. The world hath begat a scourge of devastation unto thyself, but be not tempted, for not everyone who saith unto Him, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of Heaven, but he who doeth his will, as he is the father."
I was then thrust upwards by a sense of salvation. Before I awoke, I did the same as the man had during his prayer, and looked overhead, and beheld a sight that was, by any nature, largely inconceivable. It was a scoreset of wings, which unfurled at my sight of them, and in the center was an eye in which all miracles to humanity were present, even those which were not prophesied nor of their nature supernatural. Images of monuments, wars, ships, and faces of those significant. 
Category:Dreams/Sleep
Category:Ghosts