The Dream Part: 1/1 By: Loralei Fairhill Rated: G Genre: alt (sorta) Silver Millenium based on the poem, "the dream" by theodore roethke (included @ the bottom). endymion's pov. as in the poem, this is a sequence of 4 stanzas. [1] Last night I dreamed a dream. Well, more of a wish, actually. I saw a girl, the *perfect* girl, near a clear stream in a meadow. She had flowers in her long, long hair, and their sweet scent drifted on the night air towards me. She sat and watched the moon travel across the sky. I could not approach her, for I seemed to be rooted to my spot with the fear of awakening from my blissful dream and losing the glorious sight of her. I stood like that until dawn's pale light came sifting through the trees, and a bird started its morning song. She, to my dismay, left with the disappearing moon, her image fading and shimmering until she was gone. I trembled with the loss of her perfection and awoke. [2] Last night I dreamed a dream. Well, more of a wish, actually. I saw a girl, the *perfect* girl, dancing in the moonlit woods. She bowed and swayed to the music of the night as I watched, hidden by a white birch. I followed her lithe movements through the darkness, then made to leave before I could feel the loss of her going again. Yet she stayed, and so I stayed; I saw the wind lift her up on a cloud, taking her away once more. A lark sang, heralding the sun and bidding her farewell. I trembled with the loss of her perfection and awoke. [3] Last night, I dreamed a dream. Well, more of a wish, actually. I saw a girl, the *perfect* girl, laughing in the sunlight of the forest. The animals came out of their dens to greet her around the mossy bank of a hidden spring. Finally, I had the courage to face her. I tossed a stone in the pool, and the animals backed away from the sound, melting into the grassy shadows. She turned towards the bushes where I hid. I stepped out and into the light. She stood there, staring, my captive. Her eyes bore into mine, blue fighting blue. I learned all in that moment; her eyes showed me the world in a single glance. The she flew on angel's wings, away, away, into the dusk. I trembled with the loss of her perfection and awoke. [4] Last night I dreamed a dream. Well, more of a wish, actually. I saw a girl, the *perfect* girl, standing in the wind of a gorse-covered moor. She looked at me and I looked at her. Then she laughed and spun round and round, kicking up flowers as she went. I joined her joyous dance and smiled as we began to move in unison. We slowed our steps. I realized that I held her very closely in my arms, and that we were both staring into each other's eyes. A little voice at the back of my mind told me to ‘kiss the angel.' I moved my head ever so slightly towards her, closing my eyes simultaneously. I assume she did the same, because our lips met in the sweetest of butterfly kisses. She opened her eyes, and I opened mine. The azure gaze before me revealed everything she was feeling; her emotions lay bare before me. I knew then that I love her and that she loved me. "Aishiteru," I whispered as I held her tightly against me and smelled the heavenly scent of her white-gold hair. "Aishiteru," she whispered back. My dream became a reality. "The Dream" by Theodore Roethke [1] I met her as a blossom on a stem Before she ever breathed, and in that dream The mind remembers from a deeper sleep: Eye learned from eye, cold lip from sensual lip. My dream divided on a point of fire; Light hardened on the water where we were; A bird sang low; the moonlight sifted in; The water rippled, and she rippled on. [2] She came toward me in the flowing air, A shape of change, encircling by its fire I watched her there, between me and the moon; The bushes and the stones danced on and on; I touched her shadow when the light delayed; I turned away, and yet she stayed. A bird sang from the center of the tree; She loved the wind because the wind loved me. [3] Love is not love until love's vulnerable. She slowed to sigh, in that long interval. A small bird flew in circles where we stood; The deer came down, out of the dappled wood. All who remember, doubt. Who calls that strange? I tossed a stone, and listened to its plunge. She knew the grammar of least motion, she lent me one virtue, and I live thereby. [4] She held her body steady in the wind; Our shadows met, and slowly swung around; She turned the field into a glittering sea I played in flame and water like a boy And I swayed out beyond the white seafoam; Like a wet long, I sang within a flame. In that last while, eternity's confine, I came to love, I came into my own.