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A TALE OF THE FISHERMAN OF DREAMS

A TALE OF THE FISHERMAN OF DREAMS

The sea. The immensity of the wide and deep blue that is lost in an “upside-down sky.” There is a fisherman sitting at the beach, he touches the sand with his fingers, feels the grandeur, cannot find the limits between his body and the scenery.

Each morning the fisherman rises, and still half-awake he brews some coffee, extra strong. There, while sitting, he dreams with his eyes open; before him is the sea, wide and deep.

   At dawn, he casts his net to capture dreams, and although his travels began at high seas, while still awake, now he does          not mind to fish awake, or asleep, as long as he is dreaming.

        On this occasion, the dream fisher feels the waters to be different, he knows that last night’s mescal has made him                       dream of the truth. Today, in this dark dawn, it all acquires its true shape; flying dragonflies of fluorescent color,                             sea horses, fish, birds, beings that no one has ever seen.

                                          His ancestors enter his thoughts; his father, his grandfather, those seamen who initiated him into the                                                          secrets of the sea, those who brought with them the ease, the silent dialogue with the universe.

                                                                                                And in his memory, the teachings of the mescal appear. He has all his                                                                                                             senses open, and after having searched for it in the skies, the seas, and                                                                                                          earth; be it or night, today the fisherman has finally reached the truth—a                                                                                                      voyage that always leads him back to the universe.

The sea. The immensity of the wide and deep blue that is lost in an “upside-down sky.” There is a fisherman sitting at the beach, he touches the sand with his fingers, feels the grandeur, cannot find the limits between his body and the scenery.

Each morning the fisherman rises, and still half-awake he brews some coffee, extra strong. There, while sitting, he dreams with his eyes open; before him is the sea, wide and deep.

At dawn, he casts his net to capture dreams, and although his travels began at high seas, while still awake, now he does   not mind to fish awake, or asleep, as long as he is dreaming.

On this occasion, the dream fisher feels the waters to be different, he knows that last night’s mescal has made him dream of the truth. Today, in this dark dawn, it all acquires its true shape; flying dragonflies of fluorescent color, sea horses, fish, birds, beings that no one has ever seen.

His ancestors enter his thoughts; his father, his grandfather, those seamen who initiated him into the secrets of the sea, those who brought with them the ease, the silent dialogue with the universe.

And in his memory, the teachings of the mescal appear. He has all his senses open, and after having searched for it in the skies, the seas, and earth; be it or night, today the fisherman has finally reached the truth—a       voyage that always leads him back to the universe.