The Keeper of Dreams
There are times when I lay outside and stare up at the night sky. My babies sleep, and the darkness gifts me with quiet and isolation. A brief respite. I am alone, and the world lays heavy around me.
My eyes and mind stare up at this vast universe that I am just a speck in, and I wonder what it’s all about.
As a child I somehow understood this vastness and this smallness. I couldn’t articulate the meaning of it, but I knew there was something out there bigger than me and I longed to taste it. I felt this wild calling to roam. I daydreamed in vivid colors and full words, like a movie script of some future life. I felt the ground under me of some distant place where my feet would run and my heart would soar. I didn’t know that life was short, but I knew it could be full.
That little girl was often told dreams were not reality. Over time, the daydreams became less vivid, the voices of should not, could not, and need to grew louder and louder, and that little girl learned to keep her dreams to herself. She tucked them away, keeping them only for her, hidden in a seemingly safe place.
But under the vastness of the night sky in the backyard of that little girl’s home that she bought out of the bank of her broken dreams, the stars remind her of the world still unseen and the heart that still beats wild. In the quiet of the dark the colors once again grow vivid and she breathes deep the life she dreamed of. The dreams now dance with new colors of pain and heartbreak, but perhaps that only makes them more beautiful. She is unsure, but she thinks it is so. Either way, they are the brushstroke of loss and love and this one wild life she has been gifted.
Her eyes drift to the windows of her home where inside her babies sleep, and she feels the beat of their hearts match the cadence of hers. Her heart no longer beats alone. Her dreams now twist and tangle with theirs, nothing truly her own anymore as motherhood created a whole new being out of her. Now the colors of mother and sons and daughter collide, and the paint on the canvas of their life forms a beautiful horizon. She is the keeper of all their dreams for just a little while. The night sky moves, and as the clouds pass by the moon she remembers that even in the dark of night life blooms and dreams live and hearts beat and beauty is found and love always wins. Always.
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