In the early hours of this morning my body writhed in bed and I called out in anguish. Ribbons of emotion bedecking the velvet darkness of an early morning.
My Englishman rolled over and soothed me, rousing me with kind words and an authoritive shake.
“You’re ok. You’re having a nightmare”, he said kindly.
I softly spoke words that said ‘I understand. I am dreaming.’
I will wake soon. The blackness will lift from around my neck and I will fall free from strangulation. The determined gloved fingers of velvet fear – all rich darkness and steel murderous intent – will lift from my lilly white neck.
I’m shaking and sweating as I wake. Half asleep, other worldly I am uncertain of where I am. Which way is up? What is real? Will it be over soon?
Will rays of sunshine lift me on silver wings into the light when dawn comes?
There has been too much trouble. Too much pain. Too much sadness. I crave light, and colour and hope. When one bad thing after another happens we start to feel paranoid, as if soon it will be our turn for tears to fall. I shook my head hoping the images of the night terrors would fall as scales from my eyes.
The blind-folded fates are unwittingly cruel. They know not where they cut.
As I came too from my dreams of hell in my warm bedroom in Hampshire a world away a small city, a Garden city in Godzone was blinking back the fear of a cruel darkness that eclipsed the daylight sun.
Again, an earthquake has ripped through Christchurch, New Zealand. Many are lost. The city will never be the same. How do you help? What can I do? Will prayers to an MIA God, help?
I woke from my nightmare, but some of my countrymen and women, never will.
If you can please donate to http://www.redcross.org.nz or if that link is busy and times out you can also try http://www.grabone.co.nz