Category: The Dreams Of The Waiting Prince

The Eightieth 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 was an empty void. I had no mind with which to dream, for I had no body with which to sleep. I had no voice with which to speak, for I had no lungs with which to breathe. I had no hands with which to touch, I had no feet with which to walk. I had no blood to warm my soul, for I had no heart to pump it. And I had no name for me to share, for in this dream I had never existed, not once at all.”

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.”

The Seventy Seventh Dream Of The Waiting Prince

And this morning to him I said, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I dreamt. And as I dreamt, I recalled the words of the poet, who said while in dreams we ask is this a dream, in life we never question the fact of our reality. And though I tried to pretend you were the dreamer, and I the dreamed, I could not. For you were now a figment of my imagination, and had no desires of your own. And every dream I gave to you, was in fact one of mine.”

The Seventy Sixth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning, my Lord listened to me as he slept. And he thought to himself, in the silence of his solitude, and said, “My dear scribe, last night as you wept, I slept. And as I slept, above the world, below the sky, I felt the warmth of the sun upon my skin, and the whispers of the wind in my ear. And I listened to your sighs, as you waited, in your solitude, as you hoped, and dreamt. And into me I could feel your love flow, as it had always flowed, as it always would flow. Yet it changed nothing.”

And I placed these scrolls on his chest, and handed to him this pen, and then by his side I sat down to dream.

The Seventy Fifth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning, I listened to my Lord as he slept. And I whispered to myself, in the sanctity of my own mind, and said, “My dear Lord, last night as you slept, I wept. And beyond these tears, I sat beside you in the garden, beneath the sun, beneath the sky. And while you dozed, I watched the clouds as they passed below. And I felt the cold caress of the breeze upon my skin. And I listened to the soft sighs of your breath. And every time you fell silent, I fell silent, too, and waited, and fretted, and held my breath, and crossed my heart, and wished, and waited, and hoped that you would breathe again, my Lord, my Son, My Emperor In Dreams. And I hold my breath still. And still. And still. As if by withholding my own, I may grant you yours anew.”

So to my Lord do I hand this pen, and place on his chest these scrolls, as I lay him down in his chambers to sleep.

The Seventy Fourth Dream Of The Waiting Prince

And this morning my dear Lord said to me, “My dear scribe, last night as I slept, I dreamt. And as I dreamt, I recalled the words of the poets, who said that only the dreamer could tell if this was the dream, for the dreamed would never have known any other life. Yet if I were not the dreamer, who else here could it be. For aside from me, there is only you.”

The Seventy Third Dream Of The Waiting Prince

And this morning my Lord told me of his dream of the night before. And he said to me, “My dear scribe, last night as I slept I dreamt. And in this dream I sat silently in the sun, my eyes closed. And everything was red, and everything was warm, and all I could hear was the sighing of the wind, and the beat of my heart, and the creak of my bones, and the rustling of my robes, and the scratching of my skin against the frame of my chair. And when eventually I opened my eyes, everything around me was pale, as if the sun had bleached the colour from the world, and everything too was silent, as if the use of my sight had struck the whole world dumb, so no longer did the wind sigh, nor my robes rustle, nor my heart beat. And now I began to call out, and as my cries grew louder, and more frantic, and my desperation rose, I could not tell if my shouts made any noise, or if I just imagined now that they did. Yet in a dream, all is imagination, is it not? And in life, who can say for sure it is not the same.”

The Seventy First Dream Of The Waiting Prince

Now this morning my Lord spoke to me of his most recent dream. And he said to me, “My dear scribe, last night as I slept, I dreamt. And in this dream I had no fingers upon my hands, and I had no hands upon my arms, and I had no arms upon my body. And in this dream I had no toes upon my feet, and I had no feet upon my legs, and I had no legs upon my body. And in this dream, I had no tongue within my mouth, and I had no mouth upon my face, and I had no face upon my head, and I had no head upon my body. And in this dream I had no heart within my chest, and I had no chest beneath my skin, and I had no skin upon my bones, and I had no bones within my body. And in this dream I had no body to keep my soul, and I had no soul within the machine, and there was no separation between the machine and all the other machines. Yet still I had a mind, for if I had no mind, there would have been no dream.”