At times when I close my eyes just prior to going to sleep, I will observe what I can only describe as a living mass of energy which I tend to see as a white, writhing field that has no correlation to anything in the tonal.  Last night, I saw this dream precursor for the first time in quite awhile, and as I focused on it, I made a conscious declaration of Intent to find Orlando in Dreaming.

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It is the space in dreaming which I have come to call "the white place" - essentially a backdrop of a blank canvas, yet imbued with the light of all possibility.  As I appear there, I realize Orlando is already waiting - though not the Orlando I have traditionally seen either in Dreaming or vision quests.  An Orlando I have intuited, but never actually seen in the manner he now appears.

The first thing I notice are the wings - rising off the shoulders and forming a smooth and powerful arch above the head.  Jet black and reminiscent of raven feathers, the black wings are so large as to sweep the floor with a soft shushing sound as they move ever so slightly when I approach.

He wears a black silk tuxedo, and his hair is somewhat longer and more wavy than it was when I knew him in manifestation, and when he looks up and our eyes meet, he opens his arms to me in a gesture that is both welcoming and foreboding.  No words are spoken.  None are necessary.  None are possible.

I have the conscious thought that I cannot face my double in the tonal, for to do so would mean my death.  And so I wonder again, as I did last weekend in San Diego, if the time has come for me to face the eagle and open my eyes forever inside the eternal double. 

I am aware that I am dreaming as I go to him and rest my head on his shoulder.  Our embrace is loving and sensual and yet not at all sexual.  It occurs to me for an instant that perhaps it might be entertaining to resist, and yet to do so seems far too much trouble, and so I simply relax into his arms, feeling the brush of ravenesque wings as they fold me into his embrace.  His lips brush lightly over my throat, and the dream ends.

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