A Dream

We were hurling bombs and fireworks and pranks in the night in a town that never existed in the first place, and when we were certain we were to be caught we took to our feet and we ran. He was more reckless than I, and his direction wavered as mine set straight and sure. The grass exploded around me and I closed my eyes and felt my way until I came to an edge, the precipice, and I could not see below me but I knew there was nothing there; no sound of crashing waves, no echoes from solid ground resting somewhere far beneath, just a void of emptiness and space that beckoned with a curious call. My head cocked to the side as thoughts began to turn and shift and then he reappeared in the dark and said “what’s down there?” We held out our cell phones to try and see the bottom and even the ironic use of technology in such a place did nothing to illuminate the vast darkness there. We were young but old and aware of the wonder bursting from this world, and as we turned from the edge he asked where we were to go to now and how to get there, and I pointed upward and said “I think we find the brightest star, and then we must go away from it.” I squinted and looked each way, the vapor and wisps of matter curling and ballooning with gestures of warmth and antiquity, celestial fingers beckoning and twisting and pushing and pulling, tumbling upon the skies with endless momentum, gentle. The yellow and the green and the shades of salmon stunned my senses and no amount of alliteration could do the beauty justice. It was everything and anything, the universe dancing everywhere, and as I stood in a puddle of silver I contemplated it all, the intricacies intrinsic to the dream, and as the star shone in the sky above and the membranous materials floated true and pure, I thought about the things I know and the things I don’t and was in awe of absolutely everything.