In my dream I am praying a Rosary. But this Rosary is somehow dependent upon the prayers I am saying. When I begin with the Apostle’s Creed, the beads linked together turn into pure white gems, the purest opal or pearl, with just a hint of violet or purple swirling deep within the whiteness. Each word of the prayer is a bead on this silvery chain.
Then, I start saying the Our Father. The beads transform into brilliant diamonds, bold diamonds, each word-bead a sparkling, perfect icosahedron. As I twist the beads as I say the prayer, dazzling streaks of red, blue, green, and gold flash out almost too quickly for the eye to register.
Next the Anima Christi comes from my lips. Each bead between my thumb and forefinger is now a deep, dark, rich purple, perhaps an amethyst or a ruby. Not as bright or as sparkling as the previous gem stones, these beads are more workman, more worked, somehow more functional, new from the earth.
Finally I recite the Hail Mary. The beads I see are now shiny, beautiful sapphires of an ethereal blue, turquoise and teal, azure, cerulean, cobalt and beryl, any and every term I have ever heard to describe the color blue. But as I say the prayer I realize that the best way to describe these sapphire gems are Mary’s blue.
And then I wake up, but it takes me a while before I realize this.
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