A shadowy landscape in a rural town was the setting for this encounter. Although I often dream in color this dream was mostly black and white with only cameo appearances of color, at pivotal moments. This was the first in a series of seemingly unrelated dreams but it turns out they all shared a common theme.

I was walking in the twilight hour to a library located inside an old weather worn wooden chapel. The tiny church itself was at the end of the set of the old western town at Paramount Ranch in California. It looked as I’d seen it in person some 20 years ago, before the fire.

There weren’t any people in sight. The town itself is made of facades. Open a door to nowhere. So it was haunting. I was searching, on a deep soul level, for answers to questions not articulated. That familiar clarion call…but now it seemed too much time had passed. The last opportunity had come and gone and now there were only memories.

Inside the library/church the librarian, who worked part time at the saloon and wore a red dress, patted my hand sympathetically. My search had come up empty. “Perhaps your prince will come,” she said, not believing it. There was nothing left to say. Besides, how could she know that the miraculous occurs as soon as we let go suffering over it.

Just then, a black stretch limousine pulled up outside. There was a soft amber glow from within. Elvis got out, took me by the hand, pulled me close and whispered in my ear. “Now don’t make me sorry,” he said. I knew just what he meant and vowed to myself I wouldn’t.

We left that dead place in the limousine and drove away far into the night. He was my one true love. The one I thought either didn’t exist or I’d never meet. Of course, the man wasn’t Elvis – though he wore the face of him. Now it’s my job to be present in the face of my beloved.