Joanna was a little girl who had a dream: be able to dream!
She suffered from a disease that forbid her do dream when she was sleeping.
She was a sad little girl because, deep down, she wasn't as the other little girls and boys were. She always had good nights of sleep, but every night, before going to bed, she desired that Someone from up above could give her the gift to have a small dream or even a nightmare.
She was tired of having nothing to comment on with her friends at school and, one day, she wrote a letter in order to expell her sadness.
In that letter she wrote:
"It's so hard no to be able to dream at night! Everyday, from the bottom of my heart I wish to have a dream about butterflies, birds or even dragons!
I feel stucked in my own mind!
"Oh! How I wished to be a butterfly, so I would be able to fly all over the world and would meet a bunch of new things. It would be just like a dream: every new day I flew would be like a new dream. A new happiness."
Goethe knew about this:
ResponderEliminarThe Fruitful Darkness
Tell a wise person, or else keep silent
because the massman will mock it right away.
I praise what is truly alive,
what longs to be burned to death.
In the calm water of love-nights,
where you were begotten, where you have begotten,
a strange feeling comes over you
when you see the silent candle burning.
Now you are no longer caught
in the obsession with darkness,
and for a desire for higher love-making
sweeps you upward.
Distance does not make you falter,
now, arriving in magic, flying,
and, finally, insane for the light,
you are the butterfly and you are gone.
And so long as you haven't experienced
this: to die and so to grow,
you are only a troubled guest
on the dark earth.