Tracing the routes

I remember more dreams Saturday mornings.  Perhaps it*s because often I can sleep in, and I get more morning sleep.  A luxury.  I traveled a lot last night.  A lot were church dreams and church people (I have been in a lot of different churches and met a lot of different people over the years).  At night they all blend together.  In the morning I figure out where the dreams came from, particularly on Saturday morning, when everyone else sleeps longer than I do.

At night I travel.

Sometimes I only take out road maps,

Trace the routes with my finger.

Sometimes the places are real.

Only a couple details

Are changed.

Most often

A conglomeration of places

Is moved to different states

Or countries.

The people who live there

Are jigsaw puzzles of people

I once knew

With familiar smiles.

That*s the way with dreams.

Any reality at all

Is possible.

Most often an element of truth

Lives there.

I can trace the route back

To where I encountered it.

I can find the towns in Illinois I visited

Growing up

In Minnesota.