"for Jesse"

Deep slumbers allowed for the real to make its entrance into her cognitive construct . . . dream in italics

The both of us kept suggesting things we could do like play billiards, go catch movies, fishing or clubbing--all of which cost money which was scarce then, and now. We arrived at the destination and hugged, kissed, watched the clouds slowly roll by with a voracious moon ready to eat its way into our stage. We let her.

He always put me on top of the world and first when we were together. The idea of cruising through the famous metroparks we toured together over the years were re-visited in this dream that I gratefully am allowed to live over and over. 

In the car at an old high school spot, we cuddled awhile listening to a college station and some weird music, got out walking hand and hand on the wooden platform. We shared a 'twix moment' so to speak and stood facing a ravine with the moonlight bathing every tree, bush and shrub, below. Way down below. The fog was rolling in so thick, the decision to stay was confirmed. I wanted to see our neighborhoods 'lady of the mist'.  He asked, "the lady of the mist?" "Yes, we have a legend around bedford metropark that a very young woman was thrown from a vehicle long ago that was going too fast around the curve and careened into the ravine, not without tossing her out first. She landed somewhere down near the bottom badly hurt. This couple was never found and I am not sure what happened to the driver, but she was left to die. And die she should, only her spirit was so full of vengeance while her eminent death became so ferociously pronounced, she died with a fierce look of anguish upon what once was a smile . . ." "eeerie", he said, "but do you feel anything right now ?" He knows I do and is always fascinated when I project my deep spiritual metaphysical thoughts into his receiving channels of interplanetary multi-dimensional correspondence. He understands me like no other and makes wonderful things happen, here in dreams and everywhere.

I sensed and felt for sure, yes I did. It was a quiet felt after a raging storm, almost as if the spirit sensed here had taken a more compassionate view of her situation. At least she could 'float' in and out of consciousness or peripheral vision, whichever you use to accept what you sense is around you. I tolerate accepting an appartition of sorts that is somehow extending itself upon the entire front of this ravine coagulating with the fog. An incredible feeling of pain awash with reason influenced from a completely different dimension: the one we know so little about and fear most times may just be correct. The dream-state is very effective. (These are notes about the dream later after waking up and writing them down)

I can't say that right now I don't feel a heavy burdonsome weight of guilt that somehow the accident was a fault of hers somehow, that she wanted to be in this ravine. The sun was going down and the rest of the people in the park had left, leaving us at each others beckon call from other dimensions and planes. I wandered closer to the ravine and breathed in her 'death' and celebrated my life. The power from the other side encourages you to do that. The love on this side, the deep non-physical appreciation of the essence of someones soul, is a strong bonding force no child, man or other woman can separate. It is wholly communicated between the two star-crossed lovers urging to seek solace in one anothers company or absence. She missed the driver I missed my youngest brother. Both were now spirits who roamed, floated, appeared and yet made no deliberation in truly avenging the one that caused their untimely death. 

The 'lady of the mist' was dearly missed by her companion, as I was dearly missing my little Jesse. The lady of the mist was so missed that perhaps forgiving the clumsiness of the mechanics in the car was more appropriate than laying blame on another young teenager in love, was the only was to free herself from roaming eternally guilty, or not. My sweet love, that drove me to OverlookPointe, wanted some closure for me and my brothers passing. He looked into my eyes and kissed the sweet lips of his 'little storyteller' and she shined with more exuberant feelings, sensations than words. He hushed her with guiding her eyes to images in the sky and shadows in the trees, we were not alone. Love, brothers, sisters, the salvation traveling show of a neil diamond audience of lovers were all around us ! I sensed it, and I knew he must have too because in a moment he was behind me wantonly, affectionately holding me close as he pointed a rather large racoon off to our right past the steps. She looked up saw us and went about her business. I gazed out to the moon, whispered a prayer and bowed my head as sweet love's arms wrapped around my body in a huge bear-hug essential; while mist played like fingers on the back of my neck, sweet love whispers in my ear, "for Jesse" . . .

It was as if a miracle had taken place because in the fog I saw Jesse's features not face, and felt I was actually able to communicate what I was feeling since his physical presence was no longer mine to hold. L as in sweet love, taught me something so different this night, in this dream, in this clairvoyant-aided vision, that closure is not necessary for we shall never part . . .

From behind, gently closing in, bearing deep into my soul he climbs inside. We rock back and fourth with the universe like sobbing mother and child, fully clothed yet completely raw and uninhibited ! The sheets soak up tears of suffering that finally have been replaced with joy over joy over joy. I never felt so soft, so empathized with, so utterly in-touch with forgiveness and my body never felt so relaxed when the morning sun appeared and all of you are just one more satiable memory !

jesse james cesek b. 1980 4/23 d. 2000 7/23 in honor of