On the seam between awake and dream, the bubble maker glides, while ribbons of crackling sun across the heavens slide. She follows close behind her shadow until she turns to light, and vanishes away from almost every mortal sight.
In the half-light, with all her might, she makes the world rejoice, and fills the waking lands with joy and sounds of her singing voice. When you are deep inside the dream, you know what it all means, though waking leaves you wondering about the things it gleans.
The bubbles help your spirit shine, the bubbles give you rhyme, and like a loyal friend, they stay with you across time. The more you truly believe, the more you will receive, as shimmering, enchanted spheres begin to weave.
Once I was blue, and all the world was short on hue; I felt so lost and so confused as skies of gray withdrew. The heavy darkness filled the day, the monsters stayed right there, and oh, how I so bitterly cried!
No matter how hard I tried, things never went my way, until she came like a song and ushered in a new dawn. An ancient, deeply familiar tune, she wrapped me in her song, and as she carried me along, my body grew less strong.
My body softly dissolved away, like sand in a warm autumn wind; my fingers and my toes grew clear, and I was growing round. She was myself, and we in step moved safely, side by side, as through the breezy atmosphere we floated on the tide.
She told me we were separate yet linked in every way, and jokingly called it "togethparate" as we drifted through the gray, like individual waves that form an ocean vast and wide, or instruments that make an orchestra in an empty space they collide.
Deeply connected, and on each other lean, like music in the wind above singing to a dove. Our fragile walls collapsed as one, then softly slid apart, each taking up a little piece of someone else's heart.
We glided up, we glided down, propelled by morning mist, while down below, the warm sea breeze and rolling waters kissed. My skin grew clear and transparent, and caught the golden sun, gleaming like a rainbow until day and night were done.
Familiar vibrations rippled right through my transparent frame, as music propelled me forward with a sweet, celestial aim. I did not want to stop this music in my ear, and when we neared the solid ground, I didn't yield to fear.
I loved the music too much to let the singing fade; it held me like magic glue of light and wonder made. Without this lovely melody to keep my spirit whole, I surely would have vanished and have lost my very soul.
Time vanished like a puff of smoke above a turquoise sea, where jumping fish and massive whales played out so wild and free. A pod of dolphins leaped and danced beneath the sunny coast, where mystical old mountain ranges guarded what mattered most.
I asked her if the music was a sound that all folks heard, and she replied with gentle grace and not a single word: "Not everyone hears music, for some people look and stare, and see a wide expanse of art and cartoons floating there."
She told me of her dearest friends, sweet Roxy and Rachael, who paint the dreaming world with colors wonderful and real. They often like to play and float around with the sweet Melody too, bringing joy to sad souls who are feeling lonely, gray, and blue.
The colors leave a mark behind so they are always near, to help you bridge your heavy heart and conquer every fear. It would be hard to live this life without the grace of Melody's music and the art that lights this dreaming place.
High in the sky we drifted as the Bubble Maker told me all: How she had spent an age alone before she made the call. She was the wind, she was the light, with nothing else around, so lonely in the emptiness, with neither friend nor sound.
She blew her spirit through the clouds to make the very first, and out into the quiet sky the gentle Melody burst. She gave the Melody gifts of song to spread delight and cheer, and Melody wanted company to hold and cherish near.
Melody turned a tender piece of her own bubble skin, forming two, creating Roxy and Rachel to add color to our view. And soon a zillion bubbles danced across the endless blue.
Each shining bubble was unique—some yellow as the sun, while others burned mahogany before the day was done. They touched and shared a piece of self, then drifted on their way, like summer lightning flashing in the middle of the day.
The bubbles have no cause to fear, they fade and gently die, only to be born again across another sky!
