********
I didn't even know (but he must have been a child...)
I didn't even know (but he must have been a child...)
On
a day we questioned the color of a dress,
somebody's dream died.
Maybe from a different time.
Maybe from a different space.
Maybe the dimension of reality crossed imagination.
somebody's dream died.
Maybe from a different time.
Maybe from a different space.
Maybe the dimension of reality crossed imagination.
*****************************
He had been a child, running dirty brick streets, playing with a stick.
He held tightly to imagination.
Swings became ships and clouds attacked with fury
Like his child's mind, he played a soldier and a spy, a poet and a spaceman.
And many shared in his imagination.
And many shared in his magic
that made them think for just a moment that it was possible to live long.
For so many, he opened the door a crack and their imaginations flowed in
Rushed in, like a river of dreams.
that made them think for just a moment that it was possible to live long.
For so many, he opened the door a crack and their imaginations flowed in
Rushed in, like a river of dreams.
**************
and on a day we faulted the skies for the winter's snow,
and blamed our eyes for not seeing gold, he knew he was ready to move.
Proud he was of a child's eye of magic he'd carried for many of our
Earth Years, knowing it wasn't even a time speck in the age of the stars that surrounded us all like so many clouds overhead.
But for a moment in time that never existed in his mind,
his spirit lead so many to believe that there is a tomorrow and a tomorrow and a tomorrow...
No comments:
Post a Comment