This morning I was having a perfectly lovely dream--one that had wrapped me up in subconscious sunshine and joy and love. Everything was right and good. I was entirely content: I was warm and comfortable, and I never wanted to leave. Inside my dream, I could have stayed forever.
And then my alarm went off and my day began, my dream breaking and my body stirring. And I thought of my dream and how it felt, and how beautiful and fulfilling it was, and I wanted to hold on to it for just a few more moments. It was too warm, too wonderful to give up just yet.
Yet, no matter how hard I strained or grasped, the dream slipped through my fingers and disappeared. It was gone and would not be recalled. But the feeling was still there, the loveliness slightly lingering on my thoughts, leaving smudges of light on my soul. I embraced it. And when I woke up, I was happy.
Perhaps one day my life will hold the same warmth and serenity that my dream held. And perhaps one day I will be as truly content and at peace as I felt while inside it. I know that one day the dream will become reality. It will come true, just like so many other dreams do. It just isn't time yet, not for this one. I need to wait a little longer and be patient. It is sitting there, just out of reach, waiting for me to be ready. And I will be, soon.