FLIGHT OVER MY CHILDHOOD HOME

A night filled with dreams, but this is the only one I can remember:

The bungalow with the skylight - that's my magickal childhood home I dreamed of.

I am walking down a street that seems very familiar, and looking around, I realize that it's my old childhood neighbourhood.  It feels like summer, warm and green, just like I remember it.  And soon enough, I come to my childhood home, a beautiful bungalow situated on top of a fairly steep hill, where all my magic began.  In my hands, I'm carrying a smooth stick, and this feels very important to me.  Now the street is alive with people, and they all greet me politely, but among them are two men whose greeting is beyond friendly - it's loving and exhuberant!  They tell me I should go up those steps and sit on the wide veranda again.  

As is the way of dreams, sseveral things happen simultaneously - I recognize the men as my Guardian Brothers (yeay!!), I realize that the stick I'm holding is actually a wooden stirring spoon, and that the handle is a bit crooked, and that in saying "go up the steps", they mean something very different.  I smile my understanding, and back up a short distance.  Holding the wooden spoon in front of me in both hands, I begin to run.  At the third stride, my feet leave the ground, and soaring higher and higher, I turn and navigate myself above the hill and turn to face the street again. My feet and arms are wide open, as I hover there, a living pentagram.  In my right hand, I hold the wooden spoon like a powerful wand.

The small crowd cheers wildly and the two Brothers jump up and down at my accomplishment and one of them opens up his jacket, showing that he's covered with money, bills of all denominations, which he indicates are now mine.  I laugh, but am not quite ready to come down yet, and so indulge in my usual aerial acrobatics for a few moments.  Amid cheers and applause, I finally alight onto the sidewalk to the full embrace of my Guardians.