At Some Level

Dreams are short. But some of them take a long time to tell....


So you have a real garden? asked Jesus. What's in it?

Oh, marigolds, violets, roses, lilies, I said. That's weird, come to think of it. They're all the ones in the song.

Not all, said Jesus. Check this out. And he was off again, singing.

The Crown Imperial bloometh too in yonder place, 'Tis Charity of stock divine the flower of Grace....

Yet, mid the brave, the bravest prize of all may claim, The Star Of Bethlehem- Jesus- blessed be his Name....

That's me, he said.

How come you're in your own garden? I asked.

Listen, said Jesus. Anyone can be in their own garden.

I mean it sounds like you're planted in your own garden.

It does a bit, said Jesus. But listen to this, the last verse.

Ah! Jesus Lord, my heal and weal, my bliss complete, make thou my heart thy garden plot, fair trim and neat.

Wait a minute, I said. That sounds like you'll be doing all the work in the garden!

Good heavens! said Jesus. So it does! What a stupid song. Nice tune though, don't you think?

Yes, I said. I like the way the lines don't fit the music.

Hey look! said Jesus, ignoring my remark. Someone's left a striped sock on the floor.

( Strange how dreams distort reality. As you know, I didn't see that sock till afterwards ).

How could they have missed it, I said, when it's so colourful ?

Yes, said Jesus. It makes you wonder. And see, the stripes are the same colours as my flowers, orange, violet, red and white and green. Now that just shows that everything in the universe is connected at some level.

Jesus! I said. That's deep.

The Blithe and Thrifty Marygold

My dream continued:

How does it go exactly? I asked Jesus.

The Lily, white in blossom there, is Chastity, the Violet, with sweet perfume, Humanity,
he crooned.

There you see, I said, that's where I have an issue. This is an old Dutch carol written in 1633. Humanity would not have had a pleasant smell.

You know, you're right! said Jesus. I hadn't thought of that. Perhaps I've been mishearing it all these years. But what else could it be?

I don't know, what does it sound like? How about Humility?

Humility! Yes! The humble Violet! That'll be it. I wonder what it is in Dutch?

And Jesus began humming happily again.

The bonny Damask-rose is known as Patience, The blithe and thrifty Marygold, Obedience...

Obedience! I interjected rudely.

( It was a dream. I'm usually quite polite. )

Now what? he asked.

The Marigold does whatever it likes, at least it does in our garden, I said. How does it represent obedience?

It was named after my mum, explained Jesus. When she was younger, he added.