People say that dreams are the messages of the heart, or maybe our fears realized, depending on whether they are a simple fantasy, or a terrifying nightmare. What if the dream was the reality? What if our daily, sometimes mundane lives were the illusion?
Or for those who believe in worlds without number, what if our dreams were really glimpses into those worlds? What if dreams are the windows, and our imaginations are really the doorways?
Writers, painters, artists, craftsman create works that make you want to be a part of them. What if they are giving us glimpses into other realms? If they are simply dreams or imaginative flights of fantasy, why do our hearts and minds long for those glimpses to be real?
Are they momentary escapes, or are those feelings really the desire to return, from whence we came?