As this November marks the 30th anniversary of Merlin’s passing, rare indeed it is that I should dream of him. Recently, I remarked to a friend that in all honesty if I were to encounter Merlin a dream at this stage, I would likely be more surprised to see him than not. Of course, Merlin reincarnated in December 2006 and is female and was born in Holland and will likely have a life that will likely be exclusively focussed in academia. Alas, with all these glamorous royal weddings of late, Lucian Mann-Chomedy reminded me of that gloriously lucid dream had of Merlin almost a year on from his passing; it was a dream wherein we were man and wife being married – a truly glorious drink for the soul it proved.
Here then a dream of him and me in a possible future incarnation as lovers yet again. As ever love endures. Whilst the Moon transited Gemini and my first house, on Sunday, November 4, 1990, I would have a most revelatory dream. It would prove a glimpse into the future and probable relations, between Merlin and me, when incarnate together again.
The dream concerned getting married and as man and wife. It was the sixth dream that day.
Soon enough, I entered this building and there was a wedding in progress. There was a very dark-skinned Black man. He was timid and bore an uncanny resemblance, both energetically and facially, to Merlin. He seemed very much so African.
Then a woman came up and she was much like Dustin Kynes’s wife, Allegra Kynes – a slightly light-complected, big-boned woman. A take-charge person, she was very much so the leader. Clearly, she was the one in that relationship who called the shots.
They were getting married. She wore a gown that was, quite simply, out of this world. She was an utterly vain woman. I was quite reminded of myself by her. I got a strong sense that this was a look into the future, in which Merlin and I were being married, during a life up ahead.
It proved an unusual ceremony. For one, she was not dressed in white. She wore a gown that was very expensive. It was green and opened from the neck down; there, it was tied with a big black button.
It opened outwards and was very regal, very priestly, in feel. It was covered from the shoulders on down, to mid-torso, by a very richly dark exquisite sable.
HRH Princess Michael of Kent at Royal Wedding of TRH Duke & Duchess of Cambridge 29.4.2011.
She had on a large-brimmed hat that was round-shaped. It was actually like the hat that the new empress of Japan recently wore, at a state ceremony, following the death of Emperor Hirohito.
The ceremony was very Oriental, in fact, but they were definitely Black people. She had lots of curls that hung from beneath her beautiful hat. Her hair was very long and gathered up under the hat.
She came up to join him wearing green high heel shoes that matched the green lower part of the regal cape that she wore. She wore a maxi but it was split in the front, midway up the legs, to just below the knees.
She came regally up the church aisle, going up to meet the man – her groom. She was alone as she progressed, the length of the aisle, towards the altar.
She joined him and stood up and turned around, doing a little pivot, so that her left shoulder was leading her around. This movement brought her to face her audience.
When she did, she should though have moved out of the way. By not having stepped to the side, she had ended up covering the groom.
However, he did not even know where to go. Totally unaware of this gaffe, she simply smiled at the audience. She was totally lost in her own world that was saturated with pride and vanity.
As if next to her, I heard her from where I was in the rear of the large church. She impatiently directed him, through clenched teeth, saying,
“Come on, get beside me.”
However, whilst in back of her, he did not know whether to go to her right or her left. She snapped at him, still smiling, as he was going to go to the right,
This was the traditional side for the male but she impatiently snapped,
“Get over here on my left. I want you on my left.”
I thought to myself,
‘My goodness, wouldn’t they have had rehearsals for this before?’
However, I realised that this woman was so utterly vain that she was being blinded by her vanity.
The dress was simply out of this world. It was truly an haute couture original, à la Christian Lacroix, with just a hint of ostentation suggesting perhaps John Galliano’s creative genius.
It was covered with peacock feathers that were turned down, with the crowns down and not up. They were, of course, shaped as though tiny fans.
I thought that direction to the fans an interesting one. There were, too, precious stones throughout the gown between each plume. These precious stones brilliantly glistened and added to the gowns dramatic effect.
It was utterly beautiful and utterly expensive. This was a dress of light-green – olive – satin with matching shoes that you just knew some poor cobbler had to slave over to complete her outfit. It was utterly expensive. Utterly beautiful she was.
The cathedral was tightly packed. Everybody was utterly enthralled by the sight of this beautiful woman. She was very self-possessed and utterly vain.
She was the kind of handsome beauty that always married wildly successful men. Her groom was so handsomely dark, strong-featured with a beautiful moustache and a little goatee.
He had a prominent aquiline nose. Most of all, he had such wonderful, beautiful soulful eyes.
It was so very much so Merlin – the mouth, nose and eyes. It was the same soul, using the amalgam of all the lives lived to date, to create this particular look.
He was Black with a very Nubian-to-East African look that somehow could maintain the overall physical attributes and integrity of the primary central features of the face, which was Merlin’s, in his last and just-completed life. That gloriously magical lifetime of Merlin’s, here in fin de siècle twentieth century Toronto, when he and I were together and lovers did shine through.
It was very, very beautiful to have been a witness at this ceremony.
He was so much like Merlin yet so very timid. Rather than timid, the operative word should be gracious – responsive to her (future my) authoritative self. Very much the gentleman, gentle-souled and highly evolved was he.
Definitely, this future incarnation of Merlin’s found him being feminine-principled to my strong, take-charge, animus-charged persona though female. Reincarnate male Merlin was yin to my future reincarnate female yang. Together, again, we formed a solid and complementary partnership.
Whilst hovering over everyone in the cathedral, I viewed the splendid nuptials and was actually rather taken by the man. I was, of course, not seen by anyone.
It was a high moment, at the level of soul, for both persons being married.
She did, of course, carry a bouquet in her hand and a very beautiful little bouquet it was. It was very good to see them both.
As ever dream as if it is the very last dream your soul will have dreamt for this incarnation… So go on, take a deep breath, plié, push down whilst mischievously grinning and start having the most fuck-all glorious flying dream ever. Coz you are more beautiful of spirit than you’ve ever imagined on your better days… I love you more and please continuing supporting my creative tour-de-force, uplifting dream memoirs!
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