I often used to run away. I felt as if I wasn't where I was supposed to be. I would run to the fields of my dreams in search of meaning. However, when I reached the distant meadow, all I found was cold, bare earth. My body would crumble under the weight of a nameless emotion and my legs would not bear another step. All that was left to do was weep, tears streaming down my cold cheeks. Everyday went on like this. Everyday, I knew what awaited me, but I still made the fruitless journey over and over. I remember it well.
Years passed until the day the unforgiving cycle would end. I once again traveled off to find the field, and while I walked, I noticed something. There was a peculiar warmth surrounding the area. A bright orange sun shone with a warm aura of scarlet and rose. The once sickly blue-grey sky, heavy with rain, was a brilliant amber haze that faded into a dusty indigo. The apricot clouds soared overhead like peaceful dragons. Like every other day, I began to cry, but this time it was hope that kindled the weeping. Tears flew behind me as I raced for the approaching meadow. The wind buffeted at my baggy clothing and made my long cardigan flutter behind me.
Suddenly, I stopped. The meadow was an ocean of lush emerald foliage, dotted with violet, blush, and ivory blossoms. I fell to my knees. I ran my dry, cracked hands over the flourishing greenery, icy with fresh drops of dew, left from the recently broken dawn. The crisp scent of undergrowth flooded my senses. I lifted my head to let the sun warm my face and raised my hand to catch its golden rays between my fingertips. The morning turned to evening and early stars glimmered in the lavender sky. Twilight chilled the air with a refreshing breeze. The rising moon was a thin beam of pale light.
I wanted, more than anything, to capture every moment in the field of my dreams like fireflies. I wanted to pull the flowers from the ground and preserve them forever. I wanted to catch every dream, like stars I can admire in the palm of my hand. But sometimes it is not that easy. Dreams are lost, forgotten. We see the enchanting glow of the fireflies we chase but the glow fades, and they are nowhere to be found. Some say dreams are only dreams. But you must allow the dreams to come. You can make them a reality. You can capture the brightest fireflies and pluck the most beautiful flowers and catch the highest of stars. Keep chasing dreams, my friend.
