I laid in my bed and looked out the sliding glass door watching the droplets of rain slide down the glass in a jagged path with no direction. The sky was dark yet so beautifully quiet and it appeared to open its arms and draw me in. I fell into a state of floating, blowing around like a leave in the wind with no direction until I landed, I could see my place in this world but it was off in the distance as if it were a mirage, a place so strange and unknown to me.
I was shaken out of my daze by the lightening bolt that opened up the skys and lit the ground below and as it rode up the tree the cracking sound of a branch assaulted my hearing. It was as if my soul had been awakened from a self induced sleep, a restless sleep with no place to comfort me. I seemed to have lost myself in the daily ritual of bullshit digestion and have lost the woman I once was but the shattering of the lightening bolt was an awakening, a kiss to my beliefs and needs, a warm hug for the lost little girl who rests inside of me.
Our dreams do come to if we do not hold them to tightly and let them materialize on their own, our dreams are filled with hope and desire, a need that cannot be fed with food alone. My dreams are just out of my reach and I have to stretch to touch them in hopes that they show themselves before me. My dreams are simple yet so complicated, so consuming yet freeing me, my dreams wrap me like a warm blanket and comfort my loneliness with a secret, hidden agenda of their own.