I too have a dream

Someone peering at our world on the day that he was killed would have seen a bright spark suddenly dissappear. For an instant, the light made up by the sum of humanity flickered. And when it began to shine steadily again, it was a little dimmer. I wonder how many bright sparks can be prematurely extinguished before the light stops shining altogether. But I think that on the day that he was killed, his spark burst into a million tiny pieces of light, which were absorbed by people all over the world. At least I hope that’s what happened and I believe it did, because I too have a dream. And when I hear certain people speak, I know they have a dream as well.