The Ninetieth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning I spoke to my Lord of my most recent dream. And I said to him, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And as you slept, I woke. And as you slept, I forgot. And as you slept, I tried to remember. And as you slept, I smiled. And as you slept, I slept. And as you slept, I dreamt. And as you slept, I woke. And as you slept, I forgot. And as you slept, I tried to remember. And as you slept, I smiled. And as you slept, I slept. And as you slept, I dreamt.”

The Eighty Ninth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning I spoke to my Lord of my most recent dream. And I said to him, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And in this dream I walked away from the palace, and I walked away from the gardens, and I walked away from the hills, and I walked away from the desert, and I walked away from the plains, and I walked away from the farms, and I walked away from the towns, and I walked away from the people, and I walked away from the river, and I stepped into the sea. And when I was fully submerged, and all around me was silent, in the gloom upon the ocean floor, only then did I open my eyes. And I was here again, entombed once more by your side.”

The Eighty Eighth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

This morning I told my Lord of my dream of the night before. And to him I said, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And in this dream I stood on the shore of the Fecund Sea. And in my hand I held the seeds of all the flowers that had been left upon your tomb. And I opened up my palm and let the wind scatter them across the water, across the world, away from me. And soon the seas roiled with life of such abundance it was as if the very oceans of the world themselves were being boiled away by some new sun. And I stood there still, my arm out stretched, as if pointing to some destination beyond the horizon, beyond the sea, beyond the world, beyond the known and the unknown, beyond you, beyond me. And the seeds still slipped from my fingers, as they slip still, as they slip forever. For life does not end with death. Life does not end at all, no matter what we sometimes might wish, no matter what you once commanded.”

The Eighty Seventh Dream Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning I spoke to my Lord of last night’s dream. And to him I said, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And in this dream I cleaned the moss from forgotten graves, so all could see the names etched upon the stones. And in this dream I removed the veils from mourning wives, so all could see their faces. And in this dream I removed the gags from the silent masses, so all could hear their truths. And the nobles in their palaces turned their backs to me and hid.”

The Eighty Sixth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning I spoke to 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 I saw below me the flags fluttering on their poles. And I saw above me the flickering flames of the beacons. And I felt around me the deepening shadows of the room. And I felt upon my skin the scratching of this mournful fabric. And I felt beneath my fingers the coldness of your flesh. And I heard outside the bickering of crows. And I felt outside the thud of distant cannons. And I heard outside the filling of your grave. And I felt the enormity of my grief. And I stepped into the silence of the rest of time.”

The Eighty Fifth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

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 floated in a tank of water. And no marks were there on my feet, nor any on the skin of my legs, nor the palms of my hands, or upon the skin of my wrists. There were no marks upon my chest, nor around my neck, nor upon the features of my face. No blood was clotting in my hair, nor dripping from my lips, or trickling from my nose, or blooming in the whites of my eyes. Yet despite the discreetness of your blows, my wounds were no less deep.”

The Eighty Third Dream Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning, I told my Lord of my most recent dream. And I said to him, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And in this dream, I watched the grasses of the garden grow wild through my neglect, and spread across the ruins of the Palace, until the thorns grew up its walls, and over its roofs, and to the tops of its spires, and formed around it an impenetrable shell. And the roses bloomed like constellations, and the empty corridors were filled with nesting birds, and the abandoned rooms became fox’s dens, and the desolate halls had now carpets of grass, and rabbits danced upon them like courtiers at a ball, and more life there was here than ever before, and vitality, and purpose, and worth. Yet still I felt a deep enduring sadness, for to me it would always be a tomb.”

The Eighty Second Dream Of The Waiting Prince

This morning I told my Lord of my most recent dream. And I said to him, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And in this dream I stepped through the Unclosing Gate, and walked on towards the Unending Plains beyond. But soon before me I saw the hills beyond the Unending Plains, while over my shoulder I heard the creak of hinges, as the Unclosing Gate swung shut behind me.”

The Eighty First Dream Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning I told my Lord 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 stood in this very chamber, as the floors cracked and rent, and the walls and ceilings crumbled to dust, and the air became as unbreathable as smoke, and though I tried to cry, I could not, for by then my tears had turned themselves to steam, rising up briefly as clouds, before dissipating away to nothing, swallowed whole by the atoms of the air.”