To sleep, or not to sleep?
Will the dreams be worse than the waking thoughts? If I am captured by sleep, will I be able to rip myself back into reality? If the dreams are worse...surely they can't be worse. There is only one I can go to. Again, I lament his ungraspable omnipresence...ah, that I would fling myself in his arms, bury myself in his embrace.
Yet, I open my eyes. I am still here, rooted to this globe of minerals and molecules. Unable to leave its surface, I'm forced to live my life watching others' choices. I see mistake after mistake, broken person after broken person. Logic guides my eyes, and faith my stumbling feet, but my human eyes wander and water more than my feet stray. Despair? I know it. Hope? I know it as well. Assurance? I know it...nay, I cling to it. All is never lost. Logic and faith agree; my eyes and feet run parallel in this one thought, at very least. My mind wanders to lands of fantasy; lands that are not tarnished by my sinful feet; lands where my mind runs free.
Hope. It is like a fish in the ocean...one moment visible, next far away. Do I see the same one again? Do I observe another, newer? Do I embrace the new sight, or lament the passing of the old? I close my eyes again...I see a grey and blue sea, with light...so much light.
Across the sea, a pale moon rises...
There are friends, people I know. Strife is gone, laughter and joy abound, yet are not heard.
The ships have come to carry you home...
It is like a distant dream. I see the faces and see the laughter, but do not hear it. Is it a vision? Have I passed back into the land of dreams?
And all will turn...to silver glass...
There it is. Faintly, in the distance. I strain my ears...quiet laughter...but it is not the laughter of many. It is not teasing, harsh, or even calm...it is pure joy...
A light on the water, all souls past...
It is Him...he is here, as the great writer Tolkien said, at the end of all things. I'm not surprised. Numbness rises from my feet; light drowns my eyes, yet I still see. I feel my heart beating, I feel blood, rushing through my veins. It is as though my very nature is rejoicing. I feel...alive.
Soon you will see all your fears pass away...
The pale colors of our earth disappear...the rainbow appears gray, the most vibrant color, reduced to mere mentionless smudge. Deep, rich noise fills my ears...yet they hear not. My feet feel weightless...do I float upon the air? No, but the lightest touch sends me solidly moving on. Bolts of life flow through me. Pain? No. There should be pain, yet I feel release.
Safe in my arms, you're only sleeping...
I do not dare open my eyes...should this fleeting moment pass; be naught but a reminder of my mortality; I fear brokenness.
My eyes, closed...the scene slips away. The edges begin to fray; the colors fade to their familiar old tones. My feet grow weary and my shoulders start to droop. The sounds of spring return to my ears. Crickets and frogs, though not unwelcome, grate against my ears. I long for the pulse to return...that beautiful, unrepeatable noise. I lay in my bed, creaky frame and old sheets. It feels so horridly familiar. Worries trickle back into my mind...deadlines, fumes, people, things. The scene is lost...rushed away as though I wasn't meant to see it. I frantically grab for that which has enraptured me; the sea of glass and people I know. They slip though the fingers without substance. They are not real. My dream has become that which it was before; just out of reach and description...
Night is falling; you have come to journey's end...
But I remember. I will not forget. There in the edge of my mind, He has planted them. The memories are vivid and fleeting...a flash of color, a moment of lightness. The laughter of joy, the sea of glass. I will return one day. I must return someday.
All is never lost.
Never.
