The last dream I wrote in my dream journal was in August.
“Some kids have tagged Claud Butler”
This morning I woke up having composed a song!
I’m out somewhere rural like Horning’s Hideout, and ppl are getting ready for a party. The guy who’s going to DJ asks if I’ll spin the first 120. I start making my way over that direction. Trish yells out to me to go help set up the DJ.
“I’m doing that! He just asked me to.” Then she says, “Well, we need music.” So I start singing. My voice sounds like I have headphones on, but I give in to the inspiration.
I’m at some sort of shanty stage near a barn with dogs looking on.
“Cawn dog got that cawn bread. Cawn dog got that cawn bread. Cawn dog got that cawn bread off that kitchen table. Bean dog got them beans and rice. Coon dog got that coon. Some other dog musta got you cause I’m all here allown.”
Applause and howls. “I made that one up on the spot.”
A lady’s voice, “We want some pretty music.”
“Oh, you want church music?” I ask and get on bended knee. I’ve got the silver tube that holds our marriage certificate held like a crucifix. Somebody starts singing Amazing Grace and little kids join in solemnly and sincerely. I think, “I didn’t pick this! Now I gotta catch up and follow along.”