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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1802798-THE-MESSAGE
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by Maddy Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Other · Romance/Love · #1802798
Dreams reach out into reality with a message.
When I opened my eyes I realised my entire field of vision was filled by an azure sky dotted with almost comical looking white and grey clouds drifting lazily from one end of the field to the other. I was lying on something soft and wonderful and I was comfortable enough to believe that this must be a dream. Such a sense of bliss can never be perceived in reality. I lay there for a long time gazing at the clouds, feeling the cool breeze against my skin. It felt so wonderful; I wanted it all to be real. The breeze felt real enough, so did the sweet smell of grass and the wet earth that washed over me and surrounded me like an exquisite silk blanket. Yet I continued looking straight ahead at the gorgeous blue sky. As time passed, the soft sapphire of the sky began to pale and the ever drifting clouds started acquiring an orange tinge on one side. West, I thought, that side is west. The sun was setting. The blue wasn’t only paling but changing to orange as well. The scent of earth around me became heady and inviting and I finally gave in to my urge to get up and look around. I did so slowly, afraid that any sudden movement would shatter the perfect setting and wrench me away from what I had decided was my wilful delusion. I wanted it to last as long as possible. I wish it could last forever; that this was the predestined reality and the world where I had fallen asleep had just been an elaborate dream.

As I looked around the sight that greeted me was an apt representation of all the smells I was breathing in. All around me, at a short distance away were gently swaying trees, their wet leaves dancing gleefully on the branches and sparkling like a million rubies in the dying sun. A stream gurgled nearby but I couldn’t see it since I was sitting in the midst of tall yellowing grass. With every gentle gust of breeze the grass swayed wildly and the tips teased through my hair and tickled my face. I heard faint chirping of crickets and saw a couple of them to hopping and balancing themselves impossibly over the thin blades of the grass. I listened intently to the happy gurgling of the invisible stream trying to ascertain its location and I was suddenly thirsty. I welcomed the feeling since it convinced me some more that I wasn’t dreaming. As I rose slowly to my feet I looked around searching for the stream and I realised that I was in a glade of some sort, with tall yellow grass dominating almost all of the area. The stream was nowhere to be seen but the incessant and inviting sound of flowing water elevated my thirst and urged me to move. I took a couple of steps in the general direction of the sound, my eyes still searching and they caught a sudden movement a few meters ahead slightly to my left.

I stopped and looked harder but whatever had caused the movement was gone. Instead I noticed that the grass ended abruptly to give way to a narrow trail that snaked its way through the grass and disappeared behind the line of trees that marked the boundary of the glade. I began walking again intent on finding the place where the trail began so I could follow it out of the glade. It was hard making my way through the tall grass. My thirst was rising steadily and I wished I could find the trail soon. With every step the sound of flowing stream increased and so did the hope of quenching my thirst. I was still wading through the sea of grass when I heard someone calling my name. The voice was very faint, almost a whisper, but it cut through the wind so cleanly that I wondered if it was all in my head. After all a significant part of my mind insisted that this was all a dream. I looked around turning my head this way and that wildly. I resumed walking, now with renewed determination. The mounting mystery of this place and the sounds and sights were driving me to inexplicable frustration and the only to tackle it was by dousing myself in physical activity.

I was gathering speed now but before I could take any satisfaction from that fact I slipped on a wet patch of mud and fell face-first into the grass. There was a splash and that was when I realised I had finally found the stream. Luckily I had stuck my arms out in front of me as I fell. Now my arms were all wet and muddy. Great. Resisting an urge to curse loudly I pushed myself up with my hands on the ground. My hands slipped and I fell again, this time on my back. I gave up then, sighed and just sat there breathing hard. I wanted to make rude hand signs. Really. But then I realised that gesticulating wildly with my muddy hands would only send flecks of mud flying on my face and clothes. Instead I got on my knees and moved towards the stream. I began washing my hands in the cool, crystal clear water. I let the muddy water flow and was about to dip my hands again to drink from the stream when I saw the reflection of a hand right next to that of my head. I gulped, turned and looked up slowly at the hand and then its owner.

He stood there, with his hand held out, the wind teasing through his hair that glistened coppery brown in the light of the dusk. I could barely see his face but I didn’t need to. Somehow I just knew he was the most beautiful person in the world. The beauty surpassed the mere physical visage. He was a good and kind human being and he cared for me deeply and I just knew these things. I felt them and their truth rang through my existence. He smiled at me then and although I couldn’t see his face, I felt his smile, the warmth and the genuineness that came along with it. Here, let me help you, he said and again it was that faint voice. Yet, the words were clear. They sounded deep within my mind and yet it felt like they surrounding me from the outside. The voice itself was magically sweet, warm and reassuring. I slipped my wet hand into his outstretched one. He barely applied strength but I lifted up as if I were made of feather. Once I was on my feet I felt the wet mud rise up between my toes. I looked down and found that he was barefoot too. I looked at his face again. I still couldn’t see it but it didn’t bother me. I knew all about it and I was content with just staring at it.

I’ll find you a way home, he said and the words sounded like they had been made up by the wind that was gently blowing all around us. Still holding my hand he stood beside me and took a step forward. I did too and we began walking along the bank of the stream. I continued looking at him like my life depended on it. He was looking straight ahead and after a few moments I felt his smile again. You are not thirsty anymore, he said. It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. I felt I should say something but I suddenly realised that I was indeed not thirsty anymore. I didn’t bother myself with trivial questions like ‘how did he know about my thirst?’ or that it had disappeared. I couldn’t care less. He was with me and nothing else mattered. We walked a little more and soon came to the trail hidden between the grasses. We were moving away from the trees, deeper into the glade, with the sun breathing its last for the day behind us. By this time I realised I should probably stop staring at him like a dazzled damsel. I concentrated instead on the trail twisting and turning in front of us. He spoke again and this time his voice seeped into every fibre of my being and reflected on every living creature around us.

In this land of mystery and all possibilities we will depart, maybe never to meet again. The fortune of our paths crossing is immense and rare and you must not entertain disappointment in the event of our separation. I will meet you again, but in another land, much far from this one, with as much mystery and fewer possibilities. You will not see me there the way you see me now. However you may feel all that you are feeling right now and, unlike in this land, in the other one that feeling will come with lots of lessons, experiences and cherishable memories. I cannot tell how long it will take you to find me. It is neither in my hands nor in yours to preordain the duration. But know this, my dearest. The one person who will capture your heart, stay in it, share your life, sorrows, joys, thoughts and promise you unconditional care and support without saying any words, in that person’s heart you will find me and in his face you will see your world.

With those final words he turned to face me and I felt his yearning to find me again in that distant land he had spoken of. Then, as if to finally reveal his identity he began turning towards the fading light of the sun. That was when I woke up.
© Copyright 2011 Maddy (maddy.m at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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