Night Vision

In the dream I am sitting at the bedside of a woman who is dying. I have my journal with me and she is talking to me. I am using my colored pencils as she talks. I am not ignoring her; it is almost like I am taking notes, not with words but with color. Her husband is moving about the room tending to things; he is quite busy. Suddenly, a door opens and two women walk in. I am surprised for two reasons. First, I thought I was looking at a plain white wall, not a door. Secondly, the view is wondrous. It is light and color and peace with no beginning and no end. I see gentle blues, greens, golds, and pinks. It is the sort of view an artist might spend a lifetime trying to paint - just to get the delicate colors just right. I whisper to the woman I am sitting with, "Look. Isn't it beautiful?" I glance at my journal and am surprised to see I have drawn a door. As of yet there is no color there. She then surprises me; she announces she wants to get up and do some shopping. Her legs are thin and very weak, but she can walk. I go with her. We go through another door. We are laughing.

This morning, I came across the following prayer from the book, Night Visions, by Jan Richardson. The drawing that is attached was done by me in September of this year.

For St. Anne, Whose Symbol Is the Door

Who is also the patron saint of lost objects.
Whom we know only by legend.
Who was the mother of Mary.
Who became the grandmother of God.

Who must have taught her daughter
something of boldness, of clarity,
of passages, of the power of choosing,
of not fearing angels
or their wild propositions.
Who beckons me in this season
as I seek my one threshold
from many doors.
Whom I beseech
bless me for all my lostness
light fire to my shadowy sight...