Saintly Thoughts

Musings Concerning Dreams

How often do I wake up, haunted, with a sense of loss?  For I have lost friends and loved ones in this lifetime, never to be seen again as we are separated by death or time or distance.  How much more then have I lost the friends in my dreams, who existed for a time midst the fevered threads of my mind's rich tapestry of imagination; blessed with a half-existence, for a few short hours, only to sink again into the void from which they were conjured.  To lose these dream companions, whether they be the allies of my fantasies or the terrors of my nightmares, is to lose in a way which mere human loss hardly compares to.  For, how many of these loved ones have we lost, never to even remember as their faces and voices--perhaps turned to in friendship, perhaps grasped as lovers--fade into the long night of unbecoming?  I struggle with the pain of my own existence, the knowledge that I must die, the fear of the great nothingness, the fear of the final judgment--but what must be the pain of these poor creatures?  Knowing, as they must, that their time is contingent on the fevered imagining or indigestion of an unmeaning and careless mankind.  Destined to fade into the mists, forgotten and discarded by their creator alongside the morning crusts formed upon his eyes.  How awful must be such an existence!  If only I could remember as I sink into the dreamscape...if only I could speak to them, for a moment, and apologize for my own discourteous inattention.  Would it make it better for them?  Would it make their passing easier?  I am sorry my friends, I am truly sorry!  For I am an inattentive god to those souls who dwell, for a time, within the short circuit of my mind.  

[Of course, it is entirely possible that the means of their existence is not so far removed from our own, in the last estimation.  For tell me, if you know; between those moments when these characters of my dreams and I tryst upon the outer borders of faerie, might not these dreamed characters themselves become dreamers in their turn?  And if so, what may be the character of their dream fellows--do they too dream?  And so we see yet again that great spiral of unknowing, which beacons us into the impassable abyss lying between our lived experience and that dreamworld lying beyond all dreams.]