The Garden Beyond the Stars

The Garden Beyond the Stars

It began with a soft breeze, the kind that whispered ancient secrets. When Lila closed her eyes that night, she found herself standing barefoot on a velvet path of moss, under a sky scattered with a million stars. They shimmered so closely above her head, it felt as if she could pluck them like ripe fruit from the heavens.

The air smelled of honey and jasmine, and the trees around her were unlike anything she'd ever seen—trunks of silver, leaves that glowed softly like lanterns. In the distance, a gentle melody floated, played by unseen hands, a song both new and familiar. Each note wrapped around her heart, pulling her forward.

Lila walked through the glowing woods, her steps silent, her heart open. She passed rivers of liquid light, where silver fish leapt and laughed, and meadows where flowers sang in delicate, chiming voices when the wind passed. The deeper she traveled, the more she realized this place wasn’t just a dream—it was a piece of something older, something forgotten.

Then she found the Garden.

It opened before her like a secret revealed. Enormous blooms the size of her head swayed in rhythm with the music. Vines heavy with crystal fruits hung low, inviting her to taste. The garden pulsed with life, and each breath she took filled her with wonder. In the center of it all stood a tree taller than a mountain, its bark a deep blue, its leaves pure gold. The stars themselves seemed to spiral down into its branches, as though the universe was feeding it.

Drawn forward, Lila reached out and touched the tree’s trunk. Instantly, memories not her own flooded her mind—stories of ancient worlds, cities built in the clouds, oceans that whispered dreams to sleeping giants. She saw children laughing on moons, lovers dancing on the backs of whales that swam through the air.

A soft voice, neither male nor female, spoke inside her mind.

"This is the Dream of the World," it said. "It blooms in the heart of every living thing. You have always been a part of it."

Tears streamed down Lila’s face, though she wasn’t sad. She was full—overflowing—with a joy so deep it wrapped around every lonely place inside her and soothed it. She realized then that she had been searching for this her entire life, though she hadn’t known it.

The voice spoke again.

"You must carry a piece of the Garden back with you. The world has forgotten how to dream fully. Remind them."

From the tree, a single golden seed floated into her hands. It was warm and alive, beating softly like a heart. She cradled it carefully, promising she would protect it.

The stars above spun faster, becoming a whirl of light. The music grew louder, richer, and the garden around her seemed to fold inward, becoming smaller and smaller until it was just the seed and her, floating together in a sea of color.

Lila woke up with the morning sun brushing her face. She sat up in bed, heart racing, hands empty but spirit full. In her mind, she could still feel the soft pulse of the golden seed. She smiled, knowing the dream wasn’t just a memory—it was a calling.

From that day forward, Lila painted gardens on grey city walls, sang songs of silver trees in crowded streets, and planted seeds—real and imagined—in every soul she met. She told stories of a world beyond the stars, where dreams wove reality, and every heart was a garden waiting to bloom.

And though the city was noisy and the people rushed, something began to change. Smiles grew more easily. Songs filled empty spaces. Small gardens bloomed in forgotten alleys. Children danced without music, and even the tired began to look up at the night sky, wondering.

All because Lila carried the Dream of the World within her—and because a lovely dream, once shared, could awaken even the sleepiest of hearts.