Dreams

Hold fast to dreams

For if dreams die

Life is a broken-winged bird

That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams

For when dreams go

Life is a barren field

Frozen with snow.

-Langston Hughes

While walking under cloudy skies in chilly Berlin this morning before 9 and before my body usually finds its way to the streets, I thought about my dreams. Not the goals and wishes I have for my life--but the darker, mysterious, and ambiguous world of my sleep.

I have experienced strange new things. Tried things I have never tried before. Been terrified--for my life, my wellbeing, and that of others. I have been sickeningly disgusted, I have felt love, I have cried, and laughed and smiled. A gun to my head. People from another planet. Distant memories. Inspiring figures. Catastrophic tragedies. I have snored.

I hope I do them all some blistery slightly miserable morning before 9. For what is life without dreams?