What happens to dreams when they die?
Are they buried in a polished mahogany coffin with brass handles and satin lining?
Or are they cremated and spread across the waters of a quite brook whose waters slowly carry them to the sea?
Are the remembered on a granite tombstone. Etched with a born and deceased date and relegated to the cemetery of one’s mind?
Or does the heart contain a columbarium with prayers for their remnants to be placed in and memorialized?
Perhaps they are left to decompose like grass clipping. Discarded so they blow away.
Or maybe the turn amber red and fall from the tree of like to fertilize the soul for more dreams to rise from the ground.
Maybe the death is just a checkmark in the book of life. Or perhaps each death of a dream simply moves us forward one more square – getting us ever closer to the end of life’s game.
What happens to the life that those dreams held? Are the lost or recycled?
Of course, the same could be said about our entire life.
Are we remembered or just discard.
Is our impacted really remembered or is that just a dream?
And if a dream the question is…
What happens to dreams when they die?