Failsafe

They try to slip out. The ones who move just to the periphery of the waking as the dream lingers. They wait in the hope that we will remember long enough to give them the time needed to steal out of our subconscious, where memory has stored them, and into this continuum. But we are programmed with a firewall that impedes past lives from commingling with the ones we’ve since moved into. We are allowed only glimpses of them as they attempt to infiltrate our consciousness, catching us unawares in their effort to connect.

When I was a young girl, Nonno told me that the indentation (philtrum) that bridges the nose with the upper lip was created when an Angel put a finger to our lips hushing our memory to a life we were about to leave, ‘quiet’, ‘secret’, the Angel‘s eyes said.

Haven’t you ever wondered why the strongest of dreams, the ones that are so real, the ones we awaken into, are only remembered for a short time, if at all? 

Quiet. Secret.

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