Daniel Ausema | What Passes for Eyes in Dreams and Death

I am haunted by a funeral, a pageantry of mourners and tears that I can only barely remember. I am not certain, but I suspect the funeral may be my own. The mourners are masked in elaborate disguises. Feathered and ribboned and silk. If I know any of them, I don’t know that I know them. The flowers arranged beside the casket seem to carry some meaning, a meaning that has nothing to do with me. And yet… I feel myself drawn to that casket, feel that it belongs to me in some way. My dream self lingers among the incense burners, awaiting enlightenment. ©2023 Daniel Ausema. Narrated by Stefan Rudnicki.

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