I remembered that I saw the rainbow at the very bottom left of the book page. It was barely visible and if I hadn’t glanced down right at that exact moment, just as the sun touched the window over my shoulder, I would have missed it.
Running my thumb gently over the colours, I watched as the letters on the page smudged and tumbled towards the edge of the paper. I watched as bits and pieces of the jagged edged letters soaked into my skin while others slipped from the book onto the floor at my feet. The letters, as they fell, formed words again and they called out to me as they hit the floor, with perfect grace and accuracy, before disappearing into the ancient polished wood.
I remembered I cried for the loss of the precious words, and at the same moment felt the sting of shame for my selfish want of the miniature rainbow, but then I awoke with my face wet upon my pillow and the taste of tears on my lips.
I turned away from my tears and watched through my window as the light of the morning slowly rolled away the edges of the night. Fresh and vivid, the New Year was presented in all its glory as if to me alone. Awestruck by this gift, I in turn offered up a promise as I heard the calendar year flutter loudly behind me.
I set a promise loose in the light…a promise to myself…that I will not let a day close into another without first scribing my words religiously, letter by careful letter, into the stories that I have been waiting so long to tell.
To dream is to hold the rainbow in the words and that is what I will do.
What is your promise for the New Year?