It’s dark in here. All the bright lights I have seen dim out as the sun hid in the hills. The moon is nowhere to find but the stars are out as if reminding me what the dreamers had always told me: Stars shine the brightest when the night is darkest.
The journey is still long, perhaps three dream years more before I’m in the Lighthouse. I cannot see it from this tiny town of Ypomoni. Here in a starlit room, I found in me a thousand stories unspoken, questions I never dared to ask, a past that is yet to inspire. But right now, these stories are far from making sense yet. See, I have all these broken pieces, clueless of how this puzzle should look. I cannot see in this dark room, Baba. The days unfolding before my eyes were as tough as the storms I braved in the seas. Petrifying.
No one’s up here but me… and this little hope that I hold on to that soon the dawn will break, and the Son will illuminate every corner of this room. Yet again. I am waiting for a day so bright even the faintest shadows shy away, so warm my tears will start to thaw. But for now, all I have are these, these bottles of frozen tears you managed to collect somehow.
I know now that I am not alone after all. You must’ve been here.
On the floor are puzzle pieces yet to be solved, and on this shelf are bottles of tears on display, altogether reminding me that in my mess, in the darkest of nights, in silence, in solitary moments such as this, there You are still. How comforting it is to know, Baba, that there You are still. More real, louder, closer than my breath.
– Ghana // D.Y. 5 // Adventures in the Dreamland
This was written by Ghana when she reached the outskirts of the Dreamland on her way to the Lighthouse.