In the starry night, we sleep, and dream
and during the day, we go about our business
Dreams tell us who we should be
and the day, sheds a light, on our reality.
I hear them, constantly “Living the Dream.”
But are they, really?
Those people who never wake-up, sleep-walking with wild dreams
They don’t say much
The ones who talk, complain, because they don’t feel their dreams will ever come true.
It takes a special person to live their dreams
They lie beneath the great oak tree, and look through its limbs
at the setting sun
where yellow light, shines through green
far away, from words, that don’t mean anything
The magician, changes his form
with his origami imagination
He is never a blank piece of paper
stacked into piles
and thrown away, without grace
The wonderous ways
and the old, are too old
to walk that way
So, the young man, picks-up the old man
and walks a bit farther…
Children are looking for something new
and when they visit the past
they can pick-up
the magic there
where the wrinkles, in that paper
are the lines, of carefully folded time.