The Poets Dream

Soon winter will be upon us.
One can feel the cool Canadian breeze in the air today.
In a few days the leaves will all turn brown and fall to the ground.
Autumn and spring become the stepping stones to the unseen.
A time to be born,
A time to die;
Many sit around the camp fire asking why.

Guitar player,
Ancient warrior of wisdom,
Play us your chords that lead the chosen to discover
   And re-discover reason.
Some of us commit treason.
Others ride the tide from season to season -
We will return again.

My body is being swallowed by the sun.
I run and I run hoping to catch up with the fun.
The deed is done,
The line is cast as I am hooked by all my past.

The clouds faces are tucked away in the corners of my mind.
The sun beams through the spaces like a flashlight
   Violently searching the night,
My body explodes into the heart of the sun.

Floating through the clouds,
The memories come rushing back to meet me now,
Of you and me and how we used to be.
Rising up to the space between the Heavens,
I had a dream, I had a dream;
Of a place where people can walk safely down the street,
Everyone always has enough to eat,
No one ever misses a beat.
Where the waves always reach the shore
And no one kills the children anymore.
Hold on to the dream,
Hold on to the dream...       

JvLs