I had been having freaky dreams and visions lately, felt my own life shifting around me, was it me next?
I dreamed about a garden that had great resemblance, to the description recited of The Garden of Eden. Beautiful with exotic fruits and amazing flowers. My garden was full of roses, that were so pretty and delicate I couldn’t touch them. They were high to heaven, between clouds that were soft, like cushions; they glided patiently through the sky. This secret garden was protected by three Nazarite soldiers: seven foot tall with heavy swords and gold-plated armour. They stood in a row. Their dreads were amazingly long and thick. They stood firm at a steel gate that had a gold inlay that read Gate Of Glory. It enclosed the garden and sheltered it from complete view.
I was never sure what it was trying to tell me. I wasn’t sure if it was a part of my subconscious, or a mirage of fantasy. As I stood in front of the Nazarites they reflected a sense of mystery that filled me with awe… They were so amazing. They stood proud. They made me feel so at ease. They would always ask me who I was and why they should let me into the garden they called Eutopia.
‘Yo, Sista. What mek thee stand in front a we?’ said the first one, his face stern and his posture firm.
‘Three Nazarites… Tribe of Judah.’
‘Natty dread. Fi we ‘art clean and pure,’ the third one said, placing his left hand on his heart and clenching the sharp bladed sword.
‘For we guard the land of Eutopia, where every ting nice.’
‘What is thy name?’ the third one said. He was beautiful. His hair trailed behind his gold armour like tight black rope.
‘Where you come fram?’ he asked curiously.
I would reply with so much confidence, I was sure they would let me in.
‘Naomi, Naomi May Brown is the name of thee. I too am from the Tribe of Judah. I am from the land called Sodom where there they invent practices that corrupt your mind. I believe you’ll be used to angels and saints who enter here with stories of once upon a time; how they changed the world by leading prisoners from slavery. And I know you allow Prophets who devote their lives for the name sake of the higher power, through the Gate of Glory. Me, well I’m not like that. In fact I’m quite the opposite. I’m not going to start with a once upon time. I haven’t got a fairytale story to share with a happy ever after. No romantic tale to e
ntice you about a love at first sight that made me fall so deep in love. No travelling expedition or biography to tell you how I changed the world, somewhere in my life. I haven’t lived that long. Never been on a plane, and I’m damn sure I couldn’t tell you about love ‘cause I don’t understand it.’
I dreamed about a garden that had great resemblance, to the description recited of The Garden of Eden. Beautiful with exotic fruits and amazing flowers. My garden was full of roses, that were so pretty and delicate I couldn’t touch them. They were high to heaven, between clouds that were soft, like cushions; they glided patiently through the sky. This secret garden was protected by three Nazarite soldiers: seven foot tall with heavy swords and gold-
I was never sure what it was trying to tell me. I wasn’t sure if it was a part of my subconscious, or a mirage of fantasy. As I stood in front of the Nazarites they reflected a sense of mystery that filled me with awe… They were so amazing. They stood proud. They made me feel so at ease. They would always ask me who I was and why they should let me into the garden they called Eutopia.
‘Yo, Sista. What mek thee stand in front a we?’ said the first one, his face stern and his posture firm.
‘Three Nazarites… Tribe of Judah.’
‘Natty dread. Fi we ‘art clean and pure,’ the third one said, placing his left hand on his heart and clenching the sharp bladed sword.
‘For we guard the land of Eutopia, where every ting nice.’
‘What is thy name?’ the third one said. He was beautiful. His hair trailed behind his gold armour like tight black rope.
‘Where you come fram?’ he asked curiously.
I would reply with so much confidence, I was sure they would let me in.
‘Naomi, Naomi May Brown is the name of thee. I too am from the Tribe of Judah. I am from the land called Sodom where there they invent practices that corrupt your mind. I believe you’ll be used to angels and saints who enter here with stories of once upon a time; how they changed the world by leading prisoners from slavery. And I know you allow Prophets who devote their lives for the name sake of the higher power, through the Gate of Glory. Me, well I’m not like that. In fact I’m quite the opposite. I’m not going to start with a once upon time. I haven’t got a fairytale story to share with a happy ever after. No romantic tale to e
ntice you about a love at first sight that made me fall so deep in love. No travelling expedition or biography to tell you how I changed the world, somewhere in my life. I haven’t lived that long. Never been on a plane, and I’m damn sure I couldn’t tell you about love ‘cause I don’t understand it.’
