Sleeping in the universe

I had a vision that I was laying amidst a running river, but I was not wet.
I felt like a rock,
I was a rock.
The water flowed around me, but not through me, and I could not feel its coldness or warmness,
Wetness or dryness,
Smoothness or courseness

Small, light birds landed on my chest,
Above my breast.
Three of them
Gently hop, hop, hopping
and looking
Left and right and left

The wind began to blow and 
the birds disappeared

My mind’s eye was overtaken by leaves blowing
tumbling
scurrying
floating past me

In a panic, I reached out my hands to grab the leaves.
Why, I do not know.
Perhaps to save, perhaps to collect, perhaps an instinct I do not remember.

But I cannot catch any.

Anxiety rises in my chest where the birds once stood
My hands outstretched until they can’t anymore, until I, too, am
tumbling
scurrying
floating out of control

A leaf, myself.

Am I not a rock?
In the chaos of the wind, I point my feet as if an oar directing the back of a boat
And while the chaos does not soften
I learn to flow with the powers
Greater, more powerful
Then me.

No, I am the bird.