Ten Thousand Dimes

Last night I had a lucid dream 
with distinct images of me
wandering through the basement
of an old church, cobwebs hung
from the ceiling, filtered sunlight 
peeked through dusty windows

offering enough light for me to see
and in the corner was an old
slot machine with flashing colors
of red and orange and all the sounds
inviting me to play to  
take a chance and win.

I searched through my pockets
and found three dimes,
the maximum bet

for the top prize,
then I dropped them in
one by one and pulled the handle.

The triple flaming sevens lined-up
with whistles and bells and then a cascade
of dimes overflowing into the tray,

some spilling on to the floor.

I looked around to find a container

large enough to carry my treasure

just then, a priest and an altar boy,

dressed in vestments and carrying

the holy chalice, walked through.

I greeted the priest respectfully

but didn’t let him know about the dimes

still clinking into the tray.

He looked around suspiciously

but didn’t bother to stop

or ask questions. 

I found an old hat box 
and filled it to the top

It was heavy and I was afraid

it would break through the bottom

so hurried out to my car leaving

a few dimes on the floor as a donation.

I carried the box up to an apartment

where my family had gathered for

a Christmas party. I handed it to my

grand kids who were surprised

to find buttons and vitamins

and several thousand dimes. 

What could it mean?