Dreaming of a horseman and a stallion

speculates that it is an anthropomophized bird.  Some progress to be sure.  DM is going to treat the last two dreams as one or rather a dream series which can come in sequence or for some dreamers interspersed between other dreams. Keeping a dream journal is the best practice for discovering dream sequences which are rich in inner communication, but DM digresses. Perhaps there will be more, as her curiosity is piqued -- we’ll see.


This dream, coupled with the earlier quest dream is about true yearning, yearning to be the wild and free sexual creature that comes alive but can be “roped” in. In other words, to have powerful sexual energy available but not out of control. She applauds this goal as there are many wusses out there who sat too long at their mother’s knee and now hobble about masturbating rather than embracing that powerful energy.


But wait! Is Dream Momma actually advocating wild sex? Yes, but no. Please, dream readers, remember that everything in a dream is symbolic, so we are not really discussing the sexual act but rather the sexual energy that is needed to be powerful and passionate in all one’s undertakings.  This is a genderless goal -- that is why we still do not really see the gender of the dreamer.  Both men and women need to be passionate about life and much of one’s passion comes from channeling sexual energy in creative ways.  The alternative would render us all animals (and Dream Momma doesn’t care how many elephants paint pictures with their trunks!)


Finally, DM created the "hobbling about masturbating image" as symbolic also.  Symbolic of those who live life marginally, contemplate their belly buttons too often, and can’t say a definitive YES or NO to anything without fear of being abandoned, rejected or sued.


Dream Momma


Have a dream that bugging you? Tell it to [email protected]


Watch for the book, The Dream belongs to the Dreamer, Winter, 2010


Follow Dream Momma on Twitter http://twitter.com/dreammomma

“Dream Momma, My heart is beating very fast now as a herd of wild horses suddenly appear  over the horizon, white flecks of foam dripping off their shanks. I can smell their wet hides, full of salt and digested grasses. They are the color of the earth, the foals a lighter brown. Their nostrils flare as they thunder past, The tree I hide in trembles. Suddenly a lone horseman appears. He is spurring his horse, his leather chaps, adorned with silver medallions, flap rhythmically against his horse’s shanks as he raises his rope high over his head, the circle of rope growing as he races towards the herd. He leans forward in his saddle, his black flowing hair streaming behind him, the thin rope snaking out of his hand encircling a young, pure black stallion who whinnies and snorts in protest. The rope seems to float gently over the horse’s head and I can see it takes a moment for the stallion to realize it is there. The horseman, his gaze never leaving the stallion, leaps off his horse tying the rope onto a huge silver horn on the front of his saddle. His horse, sweat streaming off its neck, halts abruptly jerking the young stallion off his feet so the cowboy can quickly tie its hooves, rendering it helpless. I see the herd, never looking back, disappear in a cloud of shimmery dust.

As I watch from my hiding place the horseman slowly removes his clothes and runs his hands over the sweating stallion first putting them to his face and then spreading the pungent foam into his black hair and onto his body. As he does this I see that he has grown very large and he begins to manipulate himself until he is hard. I watch as he ejaculates, a great shower of pearls landing on the stallions head. Just before the horseman leans down and rubs his sperm onto the struggling horse I smell its cleanness and feel myself responding. The horse is now calm and the nude and glistening horseman quickly unties the ropes. As I enter my reverie I see the horseman, still slick with the horse’s sweat and the stallion fuse together as the horseman mounts the wild horse's back and leans forward embracing the stallion’s head with both arms spread out, hands entangled in the stallion’s mane. I wake up covered in sweat." (sic)

Dream Momma can truly appreciate the sensuous imagery of this dream without dreamer identity, however she no longer

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