The Light Keeps Watch Over Sleeping Dreams

It is late, and the house is quiet enough to hear the truth you have been hiding: you no longer say your dreams out loud. You stop yourself mid-sentence, afraid that if you name what you once loved, you will see pity in their eyes instead of hope.

That silence feels like a tomb. But listen — the light does not pity you.

It knows the weight of the cup you are carrying tonight, the sorrow that feels heavy enough to drown you. It does not flinch at your exhaustion.

It does not look away from your stalled dreams. There is light within you, even in this stalled place, and it lights up the whole world if you let it.

Split a piece of wood; the light is there. Lift up a stone; you will find it there, waiting under the rubble of your own expectations.

You do not have to perform a future you cannot see. You only have to remain honest in the dark.

The dream is not dead; it is just sleeping, and the light is keeping watch over it until you are ready to wake it up.