The Tower and the Hand of God, Feb. 14, 2013

The transcribing of my dream-books continues. I’m including this particular dream because the “tower” aspect of it reminds me of Trump Tower, or the Tower of Babel.

Once again, as with a lot of these vivid dreams, I found myself in a half-awake/half-asleep altered state where I could hear myself speaking out loud in a language I didn’t understand. The language sounded sort of like Spanish, but even though I do speak some Spanish in real life, I didn’t recognize any of the words. The words faded away and I settled into the dream, and I saw that I was walking on a lonely mountain highway, with light snow coming down.

The road itself was very icy and I struggled to keep my footing. I noticed that traffic was backed up, with people just sitting in their cars, engines idling. I kept walking past the cars in the opposite direction, headed downhill. A thought occurred to me at that moment: I only had “thirteen more miles to go.” I also tried to figure out where I was. I looked at the license plates of cars as I went along, but they were from many different states. For a while I thought I might be somewhere outside of Flagstaff, Arizona (where I sometimes go in my dreams, for whatever reason) but then I started noticing the increasing number of extremely tall, ancient-looking duodenar cedars. Even in the dream I knew that these cedars aren’t normally found in Flagstaff, at least not this many. I was looking at an entire forest of them.

As I walked further and further down the road, I concluded that I must be either in Oregon, Northern California or possibly Colorado. In the cars I passed by, people were staring at their phones, trying to get a signal or something and not getting it. They began crying and screaming, freaking out. I left them behind, continuing down the road.

Before long, the dream changed. As I left the forest, I was looking up into a cloudy sky and asking God, “why am I leaving the mountains?” A thought filled my mind at that moment with the certainty that the mountains I’d just left behind were not the place to be. I could no longer stay there anymore.

I walked on, noticing now that the trees and foliage all around looked very tropical. I sensed that I was in a different country altogether, maybe Mexico or South America. I didn’t see any signs or anything to tell me exactly where I was. I saw people walking by and driving by, and occasionally I’d hear them talking. They were speaking some variant of Spanish, possibly Portuguese. I understood some of the words, but not enough to get the gist of what was being said. As I thought about this, the oddest thing happened. Suddenly “subtitles” in white type appeared floating just above the ground that translated what people were saying into English. People were talking about fleeing a city, but I didn’t see the name of it.

After I figured this out, I noticed that I was heading toward a city – a very large one, off in the distance. People were driving, walking, biking, riding horses, donkeys, whatever they could find to get as far away from the city as possible. Most of them carried whatever they owned on their backs, strapped to roofs of cars or onto their horse or bicycles. I saw that people were afraid they weren’t going to have enough time to get away. No one was looking back.

I continued on, pressing on against the flow of traffic, through the crowd of people and vehicles until it began to thin out. I found myself standing on a scenic “overlook” of a great city. Again, I do not know which one, but the feeling I got was that this was a large city in South America, possibly in Brazil  or Peru. As I scanned the horizon, taking in the awesome view of this enormous city, I saw that there was a clear part in the center of it. A park with lawns and trees. In the center of that stood an immense tower. It was a skyscraper, very tall and built in that twisted/stacking architecture that seems to be popular these days. It looked futuristic and recently-built. It was wider at the base and corkscrewed upward to a needle-like point at the top. It looked like a unicorn horn or similar shape. A nasty-looking storm had formed over it.

As I watched the tower, it occurred to me that I could see thousands of people running around on the ground at the base of it. They looked like ants. Presumably, these were people hurriedly leaving the tower. The storm above the tower intensified and occasionally a lightning bolt would strike the top of the tower or the ground beside it. I heard people screaming and telling each other to hurry, hurry, run. I strained to see the tower better, and found that my eyes were capable of “zooming in” like a camera on the tower itself.

The entire thing was made of shiny,  opalescent glass of some kind. It had a rainbow caste to it, like the colorful glaze you’d see in a puddle of oily water, or the coating you’d see on a piece of antique carnival glass. In the middle of the tower (about halfway up) I saw that several floors were glowing, as if they were burning. As I watched, I saw something that resembled a semi-invisible “hand” come down out of the storm, grab the tower and twisted it. The top part of the tower broke off and the translucent hand let it fall to the ground. As it fell to earth, I heard the sound of thousands of screams suddenly cut off to silence.  I then heard the word “Babylon is falling” filling my mind. That’s when I woke up.

This dream was extremely terrifying. It reminded me of the dreams I kept having during the months of June to July, 2001.


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