The Dreamer’s Pillow

The moments of every instance of the day exhume their withering breaths on me as I catch sight of you resting on the dreamer’s pillow. Your face bears another serene smile as familiar as those I fondly watch in previous nights when your little frame cozily lies in its entirety on your bed… then your consciousness drifts to another world I can only wonder where.

The child in you may take you to far away lands where rainbows end where the leprechaun guards a pot of gold, where elegant princesses are destined to meet well-mannered princes, where clouds are as soft as  cotton, where noble unicorns trot the enchanted forest or where elves toil at the north pole so Santa Claus will have something for good children on Christmas Eve. The child in you guarantees these and many other things that those who have grown to paralyze that childish flicker within themselves will never understand. How I wished I could assure you that life is like that… that your life will be like that.

But I grew up.

How I wished it were that easy to teach you how the world treats gentle souls. Yet that is how it will remain in this world, in this time, in this life – a wish… for only a fool would implore the heavens and actually believe in a well-laid path laden with sweet-smelling roses without their thorns, flanked with majestic, overtowering trees without veiling perils in their shadows along your way, enveloped in silence without portending uncertainty.

How I wished I wouldn’t have to tell you of the inexistence of leprechauns, unicorns and Santa and his elves and the rarity of charming princesses and Prince Charmings. How I wished I wouldn’t have to spite on your dreams of pots of gold at the end of the rainbow, cotton-soft clouds and the enchanting forest by revealing the reality that they are nothing more than illusions of the imagination – your innocent imagination.

But you will grow up.

You will find your voice amid the chaotic cacophony characteristic of life’s follies. You will find your strength amid the lethal lashes of life’s adversities. You will find your life amid misfortune and tears typical of life’s tragedies. You will grow wise as you become strong as much as you will grow strong as you become wise.

Somehow you will. I hope you will. I know you will.

In the process you will become someone you envision yourself to be. In the process too we may clash somewhere, sometime, somehow. I won’t take it against you though, I would even hope for that day because I would have wanted you to grow into that person who would stand up on her own.

How I wish for this thing before I breathe my last on my deathbed.

For now I’ll find ease in the delight of these moments as well as the promise of the future in you. For now I’ll find contentment in watching your face devoid of uncertainty and full of serene smiles as your dreamer’s pillow carry you off to somewhere I can only hope to recognize and remember.


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