The Truth About My Dreams

I was overcome by the mere sensation of my dream and that was all that was preserved in my cruelly wounded heart. I knew that they understood the intensity of my yearning anguish over those whom I had left. When they looked at me with their sweet eyes full of love, when I felt that in their presence my heart too became as innocent and just as theirs. The feeling of the fullness of life took my breath away and I worshiped them in silence. How can I help believing that it was all true? It was perhaps a thousand times brighter, happier and more joyful than I describe it. Granted that I dreamed it, yet it must have been real. For then something