Will songs be sung, somewhere in the future, about what occurred this morning, this particular fine day? Oh, probably not; legends begin on specific days but not terribly often and usually when you least expect it.
If it feels like it could be a legendary morning, it probably is not, but it might be. That’s the thing about legends: They can spring up at any time, but you never know if this is any time at all.
No one writes songs about what might have been “if only” — actually, I suppose they do — but the legends! The legends merit a special type of song, and you won’t know if it’s time for one of those songs until the time comes.
The only way to find out if this will be a legendary day is to stand up, step outside, and live this day. Time enough once it has all happened to look back and see.
Once there was a dreamer, who dreamed dreams of far-off lands where cherry blossoms bloomed and sweet aromas filled cleaner-than-clean air. It hardly mattered that, in reality, there was no flower in sight and the smells were smelly, and the fumes in the air made him cough all day: He was a dreamer, and so his dreams were as real as the nose on his face, and he had a prominent proboscis.
One day the gap between his dreams and his reality filled his heart with an unusual sadness, and he appealed to the Creator of the Universe: “Lord, make my dreams real, please, if you wish.”
Suddenly there arose a blinding light, and the sky crackled with energy, and a voice that came from everywhere replied, “Dreamer, I would love to make your dreams come true, but you must also do your part. My part is creation, your part is maintenance and repair, and we both contribute love.”
“I can do that,” the dreamer agreed.
It began to rain, and the rain washed away the stink. The dreamer planted cherry trees and lilacs, and he lifted weeds from the soil until his hands and arms ached.
I would like to say it wasn’t long before his dreams came true, but it takes a long time for cherry trees and lilacs to grow. Still, there came a day when cherry blossoms bloomed and the air was clean, and the dreamer whispered, “Thank you, Lord.”
“You’re welcome,” said the Creator. “Keep up the good work.”
