Dear God...I can't stop, I am always dreaming.
But the dream turns into a nightmare,
Images of what can't be,
Images of what is just out of reach.
The dream is always beautiful,
A hope that is hopeless,
Craving, yearning but never satiated.
Content but not complacent.
As I wander through the poppy fields,
My feet are sinking,
The earth is soft beneath the fragrant flowers.
I fall and am swallowed.
Dew drops fall on my face,
Sparkling like precious stones,
Cold, wet, smelling of tea and peppermint and sweat.
My life is not my own.
At the moment when I awaken,
The colors fade,
The night is dark and charcoal gray,
Only the embers fight against the cold,
Weakly glowing in the grate of the fireplace,
But I can still smell tea and peppermint,
I can still taste the want, I can still feel...
I shiver as cold hands run down my spine—A ghost's caress,
Haunted by the back of his head as he leaves me behind.
The dark holds me in place,
Without it my world would fall apart.
I fight against the drowsiness but eventually I sleep,
Once again only to dream of a life unclaimed,
A colorful world of black and white,
Where you and I fit together like pieces in a puzzle,
Pieces long lost that have found each other,
Making everything just right...
Just right until the dawn comes and life moves on.
We stumble through this earth
Barely feeling the ground beneath our feet,
Barely noticing the clouds around our ears,
Waiting in line like good citizens,
Paying tribute to the everyday.
We are blind to the flowers growing in our gardens,
We cannot feel the air rushing past,
We hurry to our next stop, our next appointment,
We dream of our next life.
Who will we BECOME?
Who will we LOVE?
Who will let us BE?
We climb endless stairs and as we walk in circles,
We hope that our paths will cross.
For just that moment, we can dream with our eyes open.
The world of flesh and bone welcomes us and we smile,
We smile at the little boy who hands his friend a paper rose.