A winter dream

Random words of weakness, inspired by Hisaishi Jō’s “Winter Dream”

COLD makes the house creak, standing against the northern wind. All is quite, except the thunderous race of discontent clouds, and I, sitting alone in a weathered couch, dream of what is ought to come.

In the presence of my dark dreams all dreamers seem but amateurs, for who dares to dream with such brilliant splendor and grandeur – to what avail, though, I wonder in earnest?

Stacking dream upon a dream, creating whole worlds, parallel realities, which pile up to the ceiling of the house, suffocating you in false hopes and wild chimeras.

This vicious circle now collapses, the end has only just begun; what I have set into motion is to tear my whole world apart – and such a brilliant end it would make!

The harbinger of rebirth is approaching in this winter dream of mine. Her fair wings spreading majestically, covering my transcendental sight; a lock of her long hairs covering her right eye.

STAY; don’t go, please… I have nothing to share but a place in the heat of my fire and a humble diadem of lilies.

Stay; do not leave me, please… I have nothing to spare, but a heart rich in pains, and an armful of crystal-clear feelings.

Stay; don’t you ever go, please… I do need you, yes, but more desperately, oh, do I need to gratify your own desires – every each one of them – every charming wee caprice, every grant and pressing need, every dark or sinister urge, no matter, my angelic princess.

To hold your hand is when life comes to be, shattering reality into a million pieces; the culmination of countless eons of fleeting, meaningless moments.

Time ceases to be when your gaze falls upon my smile, both glittering like sparkler candles in a room full of fireworks – so dangerous, so… right.

COME, the bottle is full; warm brandy is lazily swirling in my glass, with its gentle hues cheerfully playing by the glow of the fireplace.

The storm has now subdued; all is perfect, perfect indeed.

Come, my hand is begging yours to join in a welcome of the flesh. Blood is rushing up to my cheeks – oh, I see it to yours too. Crimson is such a clarifying colour, isn’t it, my dearest?

Come, the night is now so deep; as is my dark gaze, falling upon you with fierce sweetness. Such is the nature of love, such is.

No leaps brandish so serious a smile, than the leaps of a lover before vanishing harshly into the leaps of a girl.

Oh, let us vanish into unity – here, now, not there. Let us extinguish duality in a maelstrom of heavy breathing and pounding of the hearts.

LET US DANCE a dance of madness than only we can follow its random steps.

Let us be forever… – and upon listening the blasphemous word, “forever”, her apparition is now long bygone.

If all is nothing but illusion and life is dream within a dream, is it hard to grasp that dreaming is the only reality indeed?

WINTER DREAMS is all we’ll ever be.