October 17, 2008

I dreamt of a man with silver hair; not whited with age, but lustrous with youth. The man was content, because he was doing what he enjoyed in life... yet he rarely smiled. "Smiling won't kill you..." No, but the effort will. He was analytical, yet he knew how to fly. Introverted, yet loved and admired by many. Still, he was known for his narrow face with no smile. One day, this young man was to board another ship, across an expanse of open space. The only way to get to this anchor in space was to drift. To drift in its direction and don't look back. *I woke up* The dream continues in my waking life. I knew my direction, for in my heart, I was the man. I knew the risk, because in my heart, I was silver. I knew of the reward, so I drifted and flew, straight and without looking back to the anchor I knew had to be there, for in my heart I wanted to smile.