December 15, 2022
What happens to the dream deferred? Langston Hughes poses this soul stirring question in his poem, "Harlem". Dreams, visions, purpose, and all that give life "real" meaning have been on my mind a lot lately. It seems that this is the perfect time within the crux of human existence to ask that very question. What happens? What happens to lost vision? What happens to squelched creativity, and dried up dreams? If it is true that dreams are life energy then surely there must be an antithesis to a dream. Is "it", this opposite of a dream thing, as hazy and hard to substantiate as a dream? Hughes suggests that a dream deferred implodes, explodes, rots, stinks...does everything but live, strive, surrive, thrive, and provide an order to the chaos. How do we revive a dying dream? How do we see a clear vision again? What is clear is that this underneath and beneath the residue of a dream place is no place for any living being.
So crawling, clawing through the dirt and barely able to see my breath in front of me in a cold and desperate place, I leave a place opposite of dreams and enter where life truly resides where dreams don't die.
