Monday, September 17, 2012


It found me.
"I have scaled these city walls ... only to be with you."

'Dreamer'. He heard it as a derogatory term for many decades. Feeling he had no-one else, nothing else to sustain him, he had turned to a highly plausible imaginary world fueled by a creative renaissance undervalued in many circles to this day.

To devalue the food of one abandoned is especially heartless? Key players argued, 'he is the problem child' and found it easier to select a natural scapegoat than to face the darkness. A cry baby, so sensitive as to shiver in terror at the cruel games common to childhood.

Spiritual insight from some quarters would call it grace. From yet others, human's natural state. From growing 'scientific' evidence, a fact of evolution that is highly difficult to rationally dispute.

"Dreamer? I wear that label with pride now. Sweet dreams they indeed are. Like a four-legged critter orates in a language native to a 'land' of compassion, dreams are the stuff of earned true happiness and a courage the envy of any warrior that has ever lived. I am pretty sure."

My gratitude in awkward collections of words, hopefully, will not deter those awakening. I could be wrong.

© 2012 Buzz Hill

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