The Seventy Eighth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

And this morning I told my Lord of my dream of the night before. And I said to him, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And in this dream I sat crying beneath the fourth moon, my eyes wide. And everything was silver, and cold, and I could hear nothing, for there was nothing to hear, and I could feel nothing, for there was too much to feel. And when eventually I closed my eyes, all I saw was the colours of your robes, and all I could hear was the sound of your voice, and all I could feel was the beating of your heart. And I stayed as quiet as could be, for as my desperation rose, I could not tell whether my silence was real, or if I just imagined now that it was. Yet in a dream, silence and sound are one and the same. And in life, who can say for sure it is not the same.”