When they arrived, the world sat silent, shocked at what was unfolding. Saucers, miles across, descending out of the skies, hovering over every major city. It was like the plot of some summer blockbuster come to life.
It didn’t help anything when the landing crafts descended from the saucers by the hundreds, like a swarm of locusts coming to consume a crop. And when those shuttles finally landed, the wolfish, inhuman creatures that came out of them inspired nothing but fear and panic.
But, then they spoke. In a language not their own, in words cobbled together from static riddled transmissions received in the cold emptiness of space.
“There must be lights burning brighter somewhere,” one of the aliens began, speaking to the array of video cameras.
“I can dream of a warmer sun,” it continued, emotion overcoming it. “Where hope keeps shining on everyone”
Then gesturing back to their ships, “Why won’t that sun appear?”
“Out there in the dark,” it said, turning to point at our yellow sun. “There’s a beckoning candle.”
For a moment, it didn’t say anything. Then it looked directly into the cameras, at all of us.
“Elvis. If I Can Dream. 68 Comeback Special.”
Elvis was a performer, not a song writer. All the songs he’s famous for were written by others, often without him ever in mind. But, “If I Can Dream” is an exception. It’s a song Elvis commissioned, knowing that he couldn’t write the words to express what he was feeling. It was a song raging against the horrors of its day, and looking toward the brighter dawn of the future. Ever since hearing it, I’ve hoped that it would be the thing that aliens, if they exist, would hear and judge us by. We have pain, yes, but we have dreams to be better than that pain. We just need our dreams to come true.