Baker’s Dozen

June is a baker’s dozen. Could be eleven, could be thirteen; You know the recipe by heart. This does not mean You are on autopilot. It means You trust Yourself, in THIS regard.

June introduces you to the Dream Boat, says it was there he felt stranded by his own longing to decode himself. He’s a half-baked idea. You perceive him tethered to a pier, in the fog, his canoe bobbing gently although apparently not enough, as You witness him disturbed without true anchor. There he is on his last leg, June points, the dazzling planet of Venus above a shy half moon, You almost mistake for crescent, the long step across, reaching out, until You see him hugging a wobbling buoy serving as a navigation mark, clinging for his life, and with a holler of “reefs!” or “other hazards” he cries, unable to quite make them out… for namesake or for mooring.

The Dream Boat whimpers a little as he complains of the damp, of the dampness, of the dank, of the blackness, of the waves, of the salt, of the ocean and the sea. He says it’s impossible to sleep here, like this. Wind sucking, suctioning pushing and shoving. Shoals missing fishes. Bob… Bob…Bobbing!

The Dream Boat regrets, how he fretted until he decided to flee, and the entire time~ free falling, discovering the vastness vastly unsupportive, he pictures returning home now. His bed, there… with his pillow, all of it so clear… in his head. It was there he had grown restless, fitful, tossing and turning, until insomnia became the great gate blocking his dreams and his life felt a living nightmare. There was such yearning, he squeaks. He squeezes his eyes tight, swallows the lump in his throat, sore, chokes back his tears.

It wasn’t all a blackout, the Dream Boat fades in and out. The shelling would sometimes break through. Flapping the shutters, whacking the house boards, tearing off with whole pieces of sod… there was a plot… plastering him until he was mounded. He was a mound. Buried alive, he dug his way, clawing deeper before he realized he was without direction, going in the wrong direction, down, down down. The Dream Boat hesitates; rocks back and forth with the lapping currents, asks if it’s funny that he misses it for seeming more familiar to him than THIS water… and then he laughs.

June awaits Your move. June doesn’t wonder if You’ll be moved. Sharks take bets You’ll leave the Dream Boat for blood in the water. Coral begs You to stop wearing sunscreen, gambling it’s already too late for You to swim away. You watch crabs litter and die upon shore, turning into the poison gulls pass up, their fly-overs swooping below the sun rise to steal cotton candy, grasped in a toddlers chubby hand and then… the wailing that erupts from shock and emptiness. You hear the shrieking; the parental criticisms and mutual blame, of how could You have been so careless.

June says, Lo! See how the beach is full. Teeming. You are on the team even when you’re sitting on the bench.

Provided to YouTube by Universal Music Group This Night · Angela McCluskey The Things We Do ℗ 2004 Manhattan Records Released on: 2004-01-01 Producer, Studio Personnel, Recording Engineer, Mix Engineer: Nathan Larson Studio Personnel, Recording Engineer, Mix Engineer: Tom Schick Studio Personnel, Mix Engineer: Per Sunding Studio Personnel, Mix Engineer: Jeff Sanoff Studio Personnel, Mastering Engineer: Emily Lazar Composer: Nathan Larson Composer: Per Sunding Composer: Angela McCluskey

This night, this static night
The moon gives shelter from the rain
It’s not the only night
It’s not no final ending
See, your majesty
Is falling from his shining grace
And you’re just coming home
This life, this holy life
We take our beatings from the rainbow
And god’s not cutting back
She still can shield us from the pain
Feel that you’ve gone astray
The righteous on a one-way trail
One that leads you here
Feel like I want to stay
And make you understand me
Oh cause fear doesn’t live around here
I’m disappearing
Could we dream much longer?
Fear doesn’t live ’round here
Fear doesn’t live
Fear (fear)
Fear doesn’t live ’round here
I’m disappearing

Songwriters: Angela Mccluskey / Nathan Larson
This Night lyrics © Mctrouble Music

“Island in a Sea of Stars” by Sabra Field (2015) Thank you Alexandra for sharing this image from your guide to art!

Todays ‘To Do’ List for June 21:

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