Last night such glad powerful dreams, each tile laid down of luminous glazed clay.… The dream said that The One Who Sees the Whole does not have the senses, but the longing for the senses. That longing is terrible, and terrifying—the herd of gazelles running over the savannah—and intense and divine, and I saw it lying over the dark floor…in layers there. The one who thinks does not have feeling, but the longing for feeling—that longing makes the lines of force at the bottom of Joseph’s well. In the dream I saw the lumps of dirt that heal the humpbacked, what rolls slowly upward from the water, and prowls around the rocky edges of the desert, keeping the hermit inside his own chest.…

Robert Bly, “A Dream of What Is Missing”