The Dream Begins
In the early 1970’s, along with some protest poems, I wrote a simple little piece called the Dream. I would like to share it with you now, for this day, November 5th, 2008, is a part of that “dream.”
I really don’t mean to disturb,
But have you seen my dream?
You see, I’ve lost it
And well, maybe you might know where it’s gone.
Please, don’t leave.
It might not seem important
And yes, it was a child’s dream
But men need to hold onto a part of their childhood.
Find another dream.
No. I couldn’t do that.
You see, the others been with me for a long time.
Its been a faithful friend in times of despair,
A comfort when lonely,
So a new dream wouldn’t be the same.
Yes, I dream’t many things as a child
But this one, well it’s special
And I want to find it again,
For you see,
I need the dream and the dream needs me.
Dreams are just illusions.
But reality is built on many peoples dreams,
Illusions cemented together by a union
Of hard work; want; faith; love
And ignited in the heart
By a child’s dream.
You tell me to find a new dream.
No. For mine was unique and it was mine.
One of the few original parts
Of my spirit and being.
You can tell me that it was age,
Or when we grow-up we leave behind the youthful innocence,
But I’ll search on
And maybe in the near future,
I’ll round the corner,
And there with out stretched hands
Will be an old friend,
My dream, Smiling and asking,
“Where did you go?
I’ve been here all the time,
Waiting for you.”