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The sky opened suddenly

and he tumbled to earth

Unable to open his wings

he crashed with great force

Dazed and fractured

he did not move for some time

Feather by feather his wings opened

and he rose slowly

The density of matter

overwhelmed his senses

and he sank to his knees

Lowering his head he prayed

for salvation

from himself

Art: Igor Mitoraj, Angelo Caduto (Fallen Angel)

I woke up from a dream in which an important message was imparted on me. But I could not remember what it was; I could see its trace fleeing as I opened my eyes, just a long, tapering shadow disappearing behind a corner of my mind.

Now I can’t stop thinking about it. All that is left is a sensation; one of relief, a feeling of sudden freedom from the burden of living, close to understanding. But it’s lost in the recesses of winding nocturnal corridors and I cannot find my way back to retrieve it.

What could it be? Who did it come from? A vague figure lurks behind the words I cannot hear, never did, they were just there, imprinted by a silent voice of a shadowy presence. Pregnant with the resolution of so many doubts, redolent of hope, messengers from beyond.

What was the message? What truth was revealed to my dream self? I cannot stop asking. All my life, I had been asking. I had forgotten the question in the meantime, but I am still waiting for the answer. And now that I received it – or did I? -, it slipped away. Lodged in my subconscious, like every experience, it will guide me from now on, without my knowing it.

I only have to trust.

Some call it faith.

It’s not easy.

It may not be true.

I have to fall asleep soon, or I will go mad.

©aother