Morning Monologue

I woke up before she did so I made sure to not disturb
her as I got out of bed. Standing in our room I felt the
slight chill of a winter morning that had been staved off
by our bodies beneathe the sheets. The traces of light
that would become the dawn were making themselves
known. She was breathing softly and no doubt warmer
than myself. What was she dreaming? Even if she woke
up right then she might not remember or might not want
to say. I know that would have been the case with me. I
do not usually remember dreams but on occasion I do.
Our minds are ceaseless in their inventiveness and work.
But are dreams merely that? Are they truly just the mind
unbound playing self-generated films for us? Would it be
too strange to perhaps interpret these as visions of past
lives or other states of existence for which we have no
rational explanation? I surely don't have an answer for
that. She sleeps and dreams. I am awake and no longer
dreaming. What if we were merely lives caught in the
dream of some other sleeping being in the universe?
That might be a stretch but I cannot disprove it. Then
again, a rational mind has no need to worry but how
rational are we at any given time?