Underneath a floating cloud, like a bubble just sparking from a bright yellow wand,
Buried in a pile of never ending silver, assembles a magical dream from the fog of a unicorn’s hoof.
A dream that pushes the dreamer on the rocky pebbled covered path.
A dream struggles to be only a dream, the smallest ripple in the winding stream.
Some believe it worthless, a penny thrown into a fountain never to be seen again.
Others believe unachievable like grasping a piece of thread from a haystack.
But it is only a dream, a helpless dream, a drowning sea turtle lost in the waves.
It begs to be loved and handled with care, like a newborn puppy struggling to suckle.
It grovels to have effort woven into it, a quilt hand-sewn together piece by piece,
And the love of a couple married for a hundred years sown into its fields,
Plowed in by the hand of the farmer.
But a dream is strong like a boulder mossed by green time.
A dream gives the dreamer the promotion they’re yearning for,
And injects a needle of toughness and love in the mind and soul.
No comments:
Post a Comment