Dream

paper-boats

No one can blow the flame
In your eyes, nor can they fish the dream
Out of your heart.

A dream is a yellow dwarf
Around which many small objects revolve
A solar system of its own

And your spirit is a leaf
That photosynthesizes on the sun
Funneling quanta and streaming
Energy from the source of the heart
To the fingertip sinks.

And one day, we will hold the impossible in our palms,
Knowing then, the tangibility of a dream is only proportional
To the mallets in our palms

That transform to indomitable sledgehammers
On fate’s resilient walls.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s