Life is a puzzle; we are the clues, and God is the answer.
From a distance, Dream watched Man staring out at his tiny window, gazing unseeingly at the clouds almost completely concealing the rising moon, sadness hugging him tightly. The soft breeze was sighing, and the crickets were eerily quiet.
Dream’s heart went out to Man, despite himself. After all, they used to be inseparable, the best of friends. A tear threatened to fall down Dream’s cheeks, which he was quick to control. He was surprised to find that it was such an effort to fight off his tears.
“Ah, my friend,” Dream whispered through the air. “It saddens me to see that the bright light you once had has considerably dimmed. I would so much want to comfort you, if I could. But I need comforting, too. Because like you, I am also feeling wretched, for I failed to become what destiny designed me to be.”
Dream paused, feeling silly. He knew Man couldn’t hear him. But then, he thought he saw Man look in his direction, but maybe he didn’t.
After some time, Dream continued with his anguished whispering.
“I feel bad that you failed, because your failure is mine, too. But what can I do? I did everything to steer you in the right direction. I made myself your inspiration, your driving force. I always accompanied you in your youth; I used to sit by your side as you planned your moves back when you still thought that the future looked so bright. Wasn’t I the one who kept whispering in your ears to keep going whenever you were down? I held the torch for you every time you walked along dark alleys.
“We were such a team. We could have reached very far. Yes, I had no doubt about that, especially when you cloaked me with hope and armed yourself with potential. I thought we would soon take off. And I believe we would have made it, if only you didn’t back out at the last minute; if only you didn’t chain yourself and me to your fears.
“If only you let me spread my wings across the vast sky. We could have reached very far, because I was meant to fly, to soar. I was meant to grow up and transform into reality. But you didn’t let me. Instead, you un-winged me. Look at me, look at me. Look and see how shattered I’ve become, with my wings now broken and useless.”
Then, losing his control, Dream let out his anguish, as rivers upon rivers of tears flowed down his cheeks. Outside, there was still an eerie stillness. The wind refused to move, and the leaves were afraid to stir. The crickets had gone to sleep. The moon was still hidden behind the dark clouds, afraid to shine.
Then there was lightning, followed by a loud thunder. It was Dream howling.
//Sherma E. Benosa
20 June, 2008; 10:46pm
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