love and justice

I had a dream about love and justice last night. Quite literally about love and justice…or at least as literal as the dreaming mind deigns to be. There was a judge…a red-haired woman, I believe (details so sharp in the dreaming become hazy and impressionistic here in the waking)…who making crisp, firm decisions and brooking no complaints.

One by one, a long line of people stood before her bench. The judge scrutinized them and then, banging her gavel with a confident flourish, she sentenced them.

“I sentence you to love,” she told some sending them off to the right where they were met by smiling people…wives, husbands, lovers, children, parents, friends, it varied from person to person. Some of those sentenced to love seemed incredibly happy, others more dubious but resigned to their fates.

“I sentence you to justice,” she told others sending them off to the left where some were handcuffed and taken into custody by burly guards in crisp khaki uniforms and others were given money and car keys and allowed to leave, alone, through a door that opened onto a bustling city street. Some of those sentenced to justice seemed relieved, others apprehensive but resigned to their fates.

I’m not sure if my dreaming self was in line or just watching from the gallery (and, of course, I don’t waste time over-thinking these things…the dreaming mind is ever enigmatic and any meaning in dreams will make itself known if and when it chooses to.)