In Catching a Majestic Dream: Voyage of the two sailors
The sailors that sail on the ocean of my eyes; sail better and further during the night. They prefer the ocean glimmering in the tranquil moonlight than in the heat of the blazing sun. They catch dreams from the deep ocean and it’s easier during the night because, under the moon, my dreams twinkle like the stars of the Milky Way that drown in the ocean of my eyes.
I dream only when these sailors throw fishing lines into the water, catch dreams swimming on the surface and bring them, in their boats, to the shore of my eyes. They sail with the prevailing wind my breath provides. Amidst the uproar of Kathmandu, when I can catch, in my fist, a fistful of a few lints of solitude flying in the air, I urge the sailors to go fishing.
At Day
Low tides occur during the day. Dreams swim the deepest; in the solitude of the oceanic depth. Dreams with the deepest meaning in my life swim very deep below the surface. Fishing lines thrown by the sailors are unable to reach them. Consequently, sailors only bring dead dreams or dreams that merely satisfy my ego, greed, and jealousy that float on the surface amidst the plastics and garbage thrown by society and the noises of the ships, to the shore. My eyes hold a few tears and dead dreams bought by the sailors. (Oh, and, dreams don’t twinkle during the day which makes them invisible to the sailors.)
At Night
High tides occur during the night. Tides bring dreams to the surface of the ocean and sweep away dead dreams, plastics and garbage toward the shore from where they get washed away from my eyes through my evening tears. In my evening tears (the last tears of the day), the dust of the city, the pollutants of the ocean, and dead dreams are present. As the last teardrop slides through my cheeks and falls, dead dreams vanish for the night; in the ocean, only meaningful and majestic dreams remain. They swim on the surface and twinkle making themselves catchable and visible to the sailors. At night, some of my most skilled sailors voyage to catch a majestic dream swimming somewhere under the moonlight. Every sailor aspires to catch the dream and bring it to the shore in their boats. The sailors refer to the dream as “Hope of Breaths”. I dream my most beautiful dream at night.
In catching the “Hope of Breaths”: Voyage of the two sailors
Two sailors voyage up to the stretched arms of the ocean. They look for the “Hope of Breaths” in the heart of the sea.
The two sailors took off in a boat tied to a tree on an island where they spend their idle time (when I refuse to dream). They picked up a net, two fishing rods, a thought for bait, and a few bottles of liquor.
As I close my eyes, my breathing picks up a uniform pace providing a prevailing wind to the sailors. In case I breathe too fast and the boat shakes uncontrollably, they look toward the shore and raise a white flag. When I see the white flag, I become conscious of my breathing. During the night, I work to provide a perfect prevailing wind for good sailing.
“Look! I saw a bright red twinkle over there. Turn!”, the blue-eyed sailor cried. “Ah! I see too”, they sailed toward the twinkle. Reaching the “Hope of Breaths”, they attached the thought (a beautiful thought of the dream) to the hook of the fishing rod and threw it underwater. “Come on!”, the blue-eyed sailor shrieked.
A creature suddenly pulled the rod. “It’s there, it’s there!”, the other sailor cried.
“Come on, pull!”
My heart had slowed down. I could hear the splashing of the ocean and the loud noises of the two sailors.
The blue-eyed sailor pulled the rod from the water as a warrior pulls a sword from the heart of his enemy. The creature came flying into the boat. The sailors quickly put it inside the net. The “Hope of Breaths” was caught.
It was a star-shaped creature but not quite a starfish. It made a distinct sound as it quivered inside the net. And said:
“Take me to the shore! Let him see his most beautiful dream.”
The sailors sailed towards the shore, hymning to the God of the ocean.
I saw an image forming inside my brain as they dropped the creature on the shore. The sailors smiled and opened a bottle of liquor as they sailed back to the island. I wished I could wave goodbye but I was asleep in the deepest of the wells of my dream. I saw the image of myself……
…….writing something….
…….in my diary….
….on my backyard garden….
…..under the moonlight….
A poem.
