Verticals
The Sound of a Dream
Sometimes I have the feeling all this universe is a simple dream and death will be an awakening. Of course, this is not something new. But what will be, in this case, the dream of a sound? Or maybe I should ask: what is the sound of a dream? I doubt these lines will be read by anybody, but shouting above an empty well in a dark night may still help you feel better about too many thoughts pressing you down to the ground, like an additional force of gravity. Maybe the Universe will cease one day to dilate simply because of the gravitation of thoughts. Going back to the sound of a dream... Every dream has a specific sound, a specific energy spectrum. Poetry can be identified by its lyric spectrum, as well as the sun chemical composition can be identified by its own painting a la Picasso signature style. Imagine that all the dreams can create sounds: in this case, how will the Earth music sound like? I live at the edge of a city now but I grew up in mountains, far away from this place. The ridges were covered with fir trees and there were clear waters and cold winters. The stars were sometimes so close that my dreams could touch them. My life had more verticality during those times... The photonic poems of the stars fed my dreams until one day I had to go and conquer other realms. Yet, far away from that magic place of my childhood my they started dying until one day only one was left. I had to freeze it deep in my heart, so that someday I could revive it and go back, and talk to my river, and dance with my trees under the cold light of the sky. The stars who were so close, that sometimes, in the summer, they seemed to descend and hide in the tall grass and become one with the perfumed flowers who were sleeping and dreaming of love and beauty.
The Flowers-Stars
The flowers seem to grow up and die in the same place, like the stars who seem to have fixed coordinates on the night sky. Yet, as the stars move slowly and continuously, the flowers wander around as well. They dilate and contract, their petals curve the space and time and their dreams can change our dreams in a cricket-rocked summer night. The flowers, like stars, are beautiful and have the power of attraction. They create planetary systems where worlds of insects thrive and decline in a single day. Who ever had the power to think of taking a flower as a lover for a lonely night?
The Stars-Flowers
Once a star dreamed of a spaceship coming to explore her. The star was young and beautiful, with a splendid yellow color, an elegant magnetic field, a large ecosphere and a nice dress of asteroids, comets and planets. Waking up and seeing nobody, the star began to cry. Big magnetic storms started on a radius of a billion kilometers. The planetary orbits were perturbed and some comets burned up and dissapeared. As the millenia passed and the planets evolved, life started growing on two of them, covered them completely and developed two wonderful technological civillizations. And one day the star saw spaceships starting to explore around not from one but from two planets. She began singing of joy as her dream was close to come true. But soon after that gigantic explosions started illuminating the two planets with intelligent beings. Then only silence followed and no spaceships were seen anymore. The star cried for a long time, but no life grew again on the two worlds and the whole grass field was just too big to hear the cry of a flower when the melody sung by the galactic crickets is so powerful and easily enjoyed in a wonderful summer night.
Through My Room's Window
I watch a significant part of the world through the window of my room. When the summer is at its zenith, the green foliage of the trees covers everything, even most of the sky. I can admire my own eyes reflected in their leaves and their vegetal wings carry me sometimes towards other dimensions. But now it's winter and the empty branches point towards me, almost like begging for a sweet burden to carry to new hights. There are icicles in front of my window, some of them so long that they look like bars. Cold, transparent bars who make my room feel like a prison cell and me like a prisoner of the frost and snow. Looking outside I can see other houses and cars and people. The local space curvature has decreased and my universe is larger. But the magic of being alone on a vegetal planet is gone. When the sky is blue, the weather gets warmer and my icicles start crying. They start moving away in a liquid form and one day will be completely gone. Then, the space in front of my window will become vegetal again and my personal world more introverted and beautiful.
Wars
The humans were always fighting anyone who dared to challenge them. As they grew more powerful and numerous, one day, all the other species that could pose a challenge to their supremacy were eliminated. Suddenly the world seemed a paradise where everyone and everything was at peace. Until one day the humans started killing each other...
Marian C Ghilea