Tale #116: The Third Dream Of The Waiting Prince, In His Time Of Seclusion, In The High Palace Of Eternal Solitude, Above The Clouds Of The Empire’s Reality, Beneath The Moons Of The Empire’s Imagination

Now this morning my Lord spoke of his most recent dream, which was the third of his solitude, the second of his meditation, and the first since he had drunk of the milk of dreams, which flows so readily in the Gardens Of The Many Moons, for only there is it that the Flowers Of The Mind shall bloom. And he said to me, “My dear scribe, last night as I slept, I dreamt. And this dream was as calm as the waters of the Lake Of Thought, in which yesterday I bathed. For I dreamt I was in the bed of my Palace, and sleeping soundly. And as I slept, I dreamt. And this dream was as calm as the waters of the Lake Of Thought, in which yesterday I bathed. For I dreamt I was in the bed of my School House, and sleeping soundly. And as I slept, I dreamt. And this dream was as calm as the waters of the Lake Of Thought, in which yesterday I bathed. For I dreamt I was in the cot of my Nursery, and sleeping soundly. And as I slept, I dreamt. And this dream was as calm as the waters of the Lake Of Thought, in which yesterday I bathed. For I dreamt I was in the womb of my Mother, and sleeping soundly. And though I slept, I dreamt not at all. For I had then all I wanted, and no thought of anything more.”

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Notes:

1. Written in June, 2020

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