DREAM

Thoughts of who I am and can be,
come in whispers in the night.
They leave me breathless and sad.

My soul is telling me," Hurry!",
before it's too late,
and dreams will be all I've had.

I am freightened but curious,
of my amazing dream-self,
Who dwells on wings of eagles,
and eats the fruits of daring.

While I ponder ever serious,
lofty dreams set on a shelf,
Feeling the pings of needles,
of years spent in fear of caring.

A quietness and patience inside me dies,
replaced by desire hot and burning as the Sun.
There is now only to "do", no more "tries",
For in dreams I have seen it can be done.

What is a dream but a supressed thought,
that finds a home in a sleeping head?
Life would be even grander if we sought,
to live them and not dream them instead.

The things we keep in our mind,
are much more than they seem.
Don't leave them in the nightly dust,
dance on them, live them...
DREAM.



by: Kimarie Manhart-Freeman