Dream of:03 March 1997 "I Just Want To Testify"
I was upstairs in the Gallia County Farmhouse. Since no one lived in the Farmhouse anymore, I had been doing some work on the upstairs rooms, fixing them up so I could sometimes stay there. Of the four upstairs rooms, I had already fixed up the large front bedroom and the large middle room. However, I now saw I had left some clutter in the front bedroom, and I was busily trying to straighten it up.
My progress was soon interrupted when some members of my family ascended to visit me. My mother, my sister, and a younger girl (probably 10-11 years old and also apparently related to me) were among them. We all walked into the middle room, which also contained a bed, and as the girl sat down on the side of the bed, I took a seat on the couch in front of the bed and tried to obtain a better look at her. She lay back on the bed, however, (with her legs dangling over the side) so I couldn't see her face. I could, however, tell that she had dark hair and was quite pretty.
When everyone had settled in and had begun conversing, the girl sat back up and joined the conversation. As I now looked straight at her, I saw she didn't look at all as if she were only 10 years old, but more like a mature woman probably in her early 20s. I was immediately attracted to her. Actually I felt more than just an attraction – I felt somehow bonded to her, and I thought I could tell she felt the same way toward me. I tried to turn the conversation toward her, to learn more about her; but I was unprepared when she patted her stomach and said she had already had two children. Neither the fact that she had born two children, nor the fact that she was slightly overweight, detracted from her overall attractiveness or deterred my feeling for her. In fact, her motherhood only seemed to underline her maturity and highlight the fact that she was a woman and not a child. She didn't mention whether she was married, but I sensed she wasn't, and I felt more drawn to her than ever.
It seemed planned that we would all load up in the car and go somewhere together. A bustle of activity ensued, with everyone, including my father and others, stuffed into a car, with me as the driver. We all set out down the road, with my attention still firmly fixed on the woman, who was also in the car with us. Along the way, as we wound through the tranquil countryside, I managed to learn that she was my cousin. It turned out she was the granddaughter of my uncle Liston. Her father was one of my uncle Liston's sons – either my first-cousin Roger or my first-cousin Raleigh. Since her father would have been my first cousin, that meant she was also my cousin. I asked her about her father, what he looked like. She said he was in excellent health, but he looked very old.
As I continued to drive and drive, I grew impatient. My mother was apparently in charge of navigation, but she was doing a poor job. We were headed for a small village, and my mother was supposed to know the directions. That my mother didn't know where we were, however, became painfully obvious.
I pulled over to a little house far out in the forest. We all stepped out of the car and walked into the house to take a break. I asked if anyone had a map, and I said if I only had a map and an address, I could get us to where we were going. But of course, hoping anyone would have brought a map was futile.
My cousin had sat down and had picked up something which she was examining in her hands. I saw this was my opportunity to be alone with her. I hesitated for only a second, thinking that simply approaching her might not be right. But I quickly decided this was no time to hesitate. The feeling I had for her was extremely strong, and I felt sure she must be feeling the same about me. If we both felt the same way, we shouldn't waste a minute. I walked over to her, reached out and gently took her by the arm. Unhesitatingly she immediately stood up and began walking with me. I put my arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer to me. As we passed my father, he glanced at us, but he didn't seem to disapprove. I could tell he also saw I would inevitably end up with the woman. I dropped my hand down to hers and held it. I said something to her about her being my cousin, making sure she fully understood we were to some degree related; I wanted to know if that bothered her. I could tell that she was fully aware of everything, and that she wanted to continue with me.
We walked over to a brown, unpainted shed and walked inside. I entered the shed driven by amorous thoughts. I wanted to be alone with my cousin in the shed and hold her close in my arms. But as soon as the door to the shed had closed, I was no longer with her. Instead, I was back at the little house with my family. However, I could still vividly see everything happening in the shed as if I were there.
The man and the woman who had walked into the shed were both light-skinned blacks. The woman was wearing a plain white knee-length print dress. The man (also dressed in light-colored clothes) rummaged around through some junk in the shed, and finally came up with a black radio, about 30 centimeters long. He set the radio down on a table and turned it on.
The man stood back behind the woman, and as soon as the music from the radio began to play, the woman began to sing. The power of her voice was overwhelming. She reminded me of the actress Angela Bassett in her role as Tina Turner in the movie What's Love Got To Do With It? Her voice filled the room as she blared out, "I just want to testify, what your loving has done to me."
I was overcome by the intensity of her voice. She was clearly a natural singer. She had natural ability which gave her the power. And I understood this kind of power, for I realized I had it also. I wasn't a singer like the woman, but I had the power to write my dreams. I also had a gift which I could feel inside me with the same intensity with which the woman could feel her music within her. In my own way, I had the same mesmerizing power the woman had. I knew how to write dreams. I also had the power.
Dream Epics Home Page
Copyright 2009 by firstname.lastname@example.org