The dreamer over the sea of clouds

There was a walker too, who wandered through the sea of clouds.

Once upon a time, there was a dreamer who lived over the sea of clouds.

His bed was one of them. The most comfortable cloud. A good place to dream, to watch the skies, to shuffle the shining stars.

The dreamer loved watching the shape of the other clouds, the landscape from above and the clear horizon full of stars.

He always wanted to go higher and higher. That's why he learnt how to ride his cloud.

He could manage to go the top and back down again. So close to the ground he could almost touch it.

But his heart was always over the sea of clouds, near to the stars, but far anyway.

He saw the stars and wondered:

“Why am I not one of you? Where you live everything seems so nice and luminous. It looks like a place where you can dream what you want”.

That's why the rider of clouds used to dream he was searching for them.

He liked to dream alone, listening in his dreams to the music the stars played to him.

It was nice to be there; it was nice to be him.

Riding a cloud.

Dreaming about stars.

There was a walker too, who wandered through the sea of clouds. He also loved their shape, the views of the horizon and the landscape from above.

But he knew about the dangers in the sky, the troubles of riding a cloud. As a walker, his feet were on the ground, keeping him safe.

The walker called to the dreamer:

“Come, dreamer, come. Come down and walk with me”.

And the dreamer went down, but his feet never touched the ground. He had always been riding a cloud and didn't know if he could walk like his friend. Maybe he never learnt, never had to. Who wants to walk if you can ride a cloud?

“The ground is hard and uncomfortable. And, it is so far from the stars” spoke the rider of clouds.

“But sometimes there are some stars that fall from the sky, if you are near me, on the ground, I will tell you when I see that shooting star” the walker answered him.

From time to time, a storm was seen in the sky, the clouds became dark like chocolate and threatened to disturb the peaceful sleep of the dreamer. Those clouds always brought along furious wind, loud thunder and heavy rain.

The walker used to say:

“Come, come with me, dreamer over the clouds. I have and umbrella to protect us from the storm”.

But he didn't want to put his feet on the hard and uncomfortable ground as the walker did. He preferred to sleep riding his cloud and continue dreaming about the shining stars.

That’s why the dreamer didn't become aware of the storm until it was very close. Then, he looked down and saw the walker being protect by his umbrella. First, he thought about going down with him, but being protected by the umbrella meant having to put his feet on the ground, so he did not do it.

He managed to ride his cloud dodging the furious wind, running away from the loud thunder and fleeing from the heavy rain.

And when the storm ended, the rider had escaped, riding his cloud over the sea, still dreaming about shining stars.

One day, a new storm appeared over the sea of clouds. It was as dark as the darkest black chocolate.

 This cloud brought again the most furious wind, loudest thunder and heaviest rain the dreamer had ever seen before.

The wind made it too difficult for the dreamer to ride the cloud, and he couldn’t manage it alone. So, he said:

“Maybe if I dream about the stars, they will help me ride my cloud”.

And the dreamer went to sleep, while the storm loomed over him.

The furious wind blew and made the cloud rise high. Higher than the sea of clouds. Higher than the storm. Higher than a rider of clouds had ever risen before.

But still far from the stars. They hadn't been made to be reached by the dreamer, who slept happily on his cloud, safe from the storm.

After the storm came the calm, and with the calm, the clear horizon full of shining stars. And one of them, the most beautiful of all, fell from space, beyond the sea of clouds.

“Come dreamer, come. Come down to see the shooting star with me”. The walker said.

But our dreamer was sleeping while his cloud went high and high, searching the far and shining stars.

He didn't hear the walker.

He didn't hear his call.

And the walker thought the dreamer had ridden his cloud far from him, so he continued walking, because it's what a walker does.

And when the shooting star appeared, there was no one to see her.

The walker on his way.

The dreamer on his cloud, lost in the sky.

Searching for something he would never find.