About
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
EDGAR ALLAN POE, A Dream Within a Dream
Dream
A friend once asked, "Do you dream in color or in black and white?"
I stared at her bewildered at her sudden question before returning with an answer, "Does it really matter?" She smiled and merely gave a little shrug.
I then thought for a moment before sheepishly admitting, "I don't know. I never remember my dreams."
It was true. For some particular reason, I was never able to remember what I dreamt about. The moment I opened my eyes, snatches of my dream would quicker flicker away from memory until I was left to wonder, 'What in the world did I dream about?'
Although I listened to my friend's talk about dreams and dream imagery with great fascination, I never felt compelled to dissect the meanings of my own dreams. It didn't quite matter for I was more concerned with the realm of the waking world.
And yet for some particular reason, that question lingered with me for a long time. Gnawing at me slowly, until my curiousity could stand it no more. 'That's it', I decided one day, 'I really must know.'
It was after finally putting my mind to the task that I came to realize how vividly, brightly, and iridescently my sleepworld was.
Such were the hues in the dreams that eluded me for so long.