April 11 NaPoWriMo - Dream for the New York Times

blue butterflies in a woddy brown forest with little white mushrooms


NYT Opinion Wants to Know: What Are You Dreaming About During the Coronavirus Crisis?


The New York Times wants to what you are dreaming about during the coronavirus pandemic. You have to keep your submission to 250 words. I'm calling mine a prose poem and it counts for today's poem-a-day mission!

https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2020/04/10/opinion/10dreams.html

Prose Poem for the New York Times 

I misheard a friend's daughter talking about the coronavirus on video chat. I thought she said "Crone of Iris." I don't know why, but I love thinking about the Crone of Iris. It's so much more benevolent and wise than the hellscape that is the coronavirus. So, when I think about the interesting things, the not-actually-horrible things brought about because of the pandemic, I call those things the Crone of Iris. And here's today's "Crone of Iris" prose poem for the NYT OpEd about dreams. 

Crone of Iris Dreams

Three times now I have dreamt of a benevolent, savvy witchy woman--a different one each time--wryly remarking at my surprise when I learn I am a descendent of the Earth goddess. One time was after I woke up to find that my garden had grown overnight, enchanted and abundant. The little front rose bush had created its own arbor and was in bloom already with silvery purple roses. Another dream was when I was rejected from a school for descendents of the Water goddess. A sassy witch came to console me and declare that I was a daughter of a goddess of the Earth. Then another where there was suddenly an extra room in my apartment for greenhouse growing. I always have dreams about extra rooms. In real life, my postage stamp garden in the front and my patio garden in the back are set up and ready sooner than they've ever been because I am home to work on them all the time. I am expanding to the two feet of green space between my driveway and the house next door, as well, and I  hope to plant more in a plot on the sidewalk across the street that I hadn't noticed before. I guess I'm listening to the message in my dreams.