Meeting My Muse at the 16th Moonbeam

I skip along the 16th moonbeam and then veer sharply to the right.

My feet land safely on another row of beams and I skip across the pattern of light as though I am jumping across lily pads in a pond.

The Earth is visible below me – spinning silently and smoothly – half lit by sunlight, half plunged in darkness. It is an enchanting sight to see.

I turn right at the fork and continue until the beams give way to solid ground. I feel the path become firmer beneath my feet and in no time I walk into forest greenery that is along the path and spread before me as far as I can see.

In the distance I see someone walking towards me along with two creatures alongside him. As he nears, he appears to be an older man wearing a long sleeve shirt that is buttoned up the front and at the cuff.

He wears no tie, but wears a straw hat, a bit askew on his gray hair – shadowing his bushy gray eyebrows. There is a red and white striped ribbon around his hat band, a pattern similar to his shirt.

He wears long tan trousers that seem a bit big for him as he has them bunched at the waist with a belt. His eyes are a pale blue and when he smiles at me his skin crinkles in a way that etches his face from a lifetime of laughter.

He tilts his hat in greeting and says, “Good day, my dear, how very nice to see you again.”

I am a taken aback that he knows me for I have no memory of him.

“Oh yes, you don’t remember me. I’m sorry. I forget that that happens. Let me assure you that we have met many times; perhaps something in you remembers me?”

As I search his face he emits an aura of friendliness and I feel no fear of him.  I soon shrug and say, “I’m so sorry, but I don’t remember you.”

Replacing his hat to his head, he smiles and says, “No worries. Sometimes you do, and sometimes you don’t.”

Not sure what he means by this, I look at his two companions and realize they are poodle mixed breeds of about 10 pounds each. One is white and the other is chocolate brown.

The two dogs stand on their hind legs — shoulder width apart – with their front paws reaching up to the sky. As they walk, they somersault, looking like starfish tumbling along the path.

“Why do they walk that way?” I ask the man.

“Oh. They walk oddly do they? Perhaps from where you hail they do. I’m quite used to their manner of walking though, and I assure you that I see no oddity.”

As he speaks the dogs release their pose and sit beside him, in a normal dog-like posture. I reach out to pet the chocolate brown one, “May I pet him?” I ask.

“That’s entirely up to him,” says the man. “He has a mind of his own, unlike your Earth creatures where his kind is considered a pet.”

“But he is a dog, isn’t he? So they are your pets.”

“My goodness no. These are my walking companions, Teho and Geho. They are free to leave the path and roam off should they choose. They are perfectly free to decide their own mind.”

I stoop down to be at eye level with Teho and ask, “May I pet you?”

In reply, Teho rolls onto his back exposing his white and brown speckled belly for me to rub. As I pet his soft curly fur and rub his belly I say, “Well, he certainly feels and acts like a dog to me.”

“Of course,” says the man.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Well everything is expectation. You expect him to feel and act like a dog… so he does. Well, we best be on our way. Expect my next transmission in another sun or so,” he says, tipping his hat to me.

I wonder what he is talking about as Teho and Geho get back in their odd walking position, like two furry gymnasts in ready stance; then start their somersault after the man as he walks away.

“Wait,” I call to him, “Who are you?”

“One of your muses, of course.”

“One of my muses? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Of course you do,” he says, and then simply disappears along with the dogs.

Row – Row – Row – Your Boat
Gently Down the Stream
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily, Merrily
Life is But a Dream