"Asking yourself deeper questions opens up new ways of being in the world...
The real trick to life is not to be in the know, but to be in the mystery. " ​- Fred Alan Wolf
                                                                                                                                                                

Dreams are excellent inspiration for writing, art, and all creative endeavors. Working with your dreams helps you unearth their creative potential. Could there be a poem, a painting or a lyrical event glimmering within your dream?  My own dreams have yielded rich inspiration for children's books, both stories and images, and have informed many of my writing projects. Even this website was born in dreams. Transcribing a dream in multiple modalities - words, sketches, music, dance - energizes the creative flow. Can you capture wonder? Transform fear? Wouldn't it be thrilling to try?
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​DREAM

WOLF CROSSING

I've been trying to make my way to an upper level, encountering people known and unknown from many points in my life.  I'm in a church, then a garden, then a church again, intent on finding my way. Finally, I reach the upper level.  It’s twilight, difficult to see, and there's a rural, wilderness feeling around me. Members of a group who have journeyed here with me take turns crossing a misty field to a meeting place beyond, but there are wolves all around.  The people in charge here protect the wolves.  They remind us this is the wolves’ natural habitat. 

There’s an edge of danger in the crossing, as the wolves may snap and bite.  We’re shown how to protect ourselves by clapping our hands together and shouting, “Bam! Bam! Bam!”  I can feel the wolves all around me and glimpse them through the mist in groups of three or four – grey wolves, white wolves, brown wolves.  I watch several people cross and see the glint and shine of the wolves’ teeth as they pass.  I feel the danger, the risk and suspense but no fear.  This is a challenge.  I have to cross now.  I set out, clapping my hands and shouting as loudly as I can, “Bam, Bam Bam!”  I hear others in the mist, hopeful of making their way, intent on the task. I wake before I reach the other side.

© 2011  Maureen Boyd Biro

POEM

​Wolf Moon

Beneath the Wolf moon
   my mother sleeps
   bereft of moonlight
   Imprisoned
   in an endless January

Time blankets her sleep
   gray moments blur
   into grayer years
   ticking
   like a metronome
   abandoned
   heart prints in the silence

Outside the wolf moon shines
   gleaming through the ghostly darkness
   gleaming through the glistening mist
   gleaming through the shroud of winter, woven
   from the deepening naught 
   of memory.

Does my mother dream beneath this moon?
   feel the silver notes of night
   upon her skin
   feel the wolf's breath, his velvet bite
   as he carries her from her winter tomb
   into the quivering darkness

Solitary sentinels
   do they dream together?
   beyond the darkness
   beyond the silence
   into the Holy Mysteries
   
Of the Wolf Moon

© 2014  Maureen Boyd Biro