I once had dreams of small gods.

I was walking down a wide and sweeping, steep street with my brother Steve and with Hannah and my sister Kristi. I was wearing a flowing, as light as gossamer, silk gown worn only by the princes of this world, over a soft and airy gauze-like under garment. The sunlight was softly warm, yet bright. My robes were moving with the breeze as we walked liesurely in quiet conversation.

I gave birth, while we walked, to a beautiful baby. The baby was glowing, awash in a lovely scented oil that sparkled as if infused with glitter. The baby was very large and difficult to carry; he was so large and heavy and the oil made him hard to hold onto. Occasionally I would drop him but he was never hurt. He was so beautiful and brown. I opened my gown for him to suckle.

We were on a street of large modern homes separated by mature landscapes. We arrived to a wide, stone staircase that led up to a house that was mostly glass and made of natural wood. We knocked on the door and were let in by Harpreet and Joga and Hardeep, Dhillon’s, my lover’s, children. Dhillon was upstairs in a bed of silk and kantha quilts. All of us climbed the stairs to the upstairs bedroom, of luxury, the like but rarely seen by common man. I sat on the bed, holding out the baby for Dhillon to take.

We all knew that I’d given birth to a small god. The baby had double rows of teeth and could speak in full sentences.The baby was saying many things but in my memory, it remains, that it complained of pooping because it was too messy. I presented the baby to Dhillon as the small god that he was.

I dreamt that I gave birth to a baby. I was in a house that I didn’t know and there were two midwives waiting for me to give birth. I hadn’t been in labor long, if at all, but I could I feel the bulging in my perineum and I said, “The baby is coming”. And I laid down on a beautiful velvet couch and the baby was born without any difficulty whatsoever. It was born face down and it laid on its stomach. When it was born it was as though it had not come through the birth canal. It was as clean and fresh as though it had just been bathed. Again, the baby could speak in full sentences, just as in the first dream, but I can’t recall what it said. As I held it to my breast to nurse it, it transformed into a cat. That’s all I can remember of this strange and mysterious dream.