words

some words came to me in a dream, and i wrote them down in a book beside my bed.

when i awoke, i read what i had written, and laughed, for it seemed folly.

some days later, i read what i had written, and pondered, for it seemed passing wise, as if they were the words of someone greater than i.

still later, i read the words yet again, and felt that neither was true. rather, i felt that in truth i had never awakened, but was in fact still dreaming.

since that day i have continued to write down the words in hope that i might one day awaken. however, i suspect that the key to that awakening lies somewhere that words cannot reach.