Great loves are the stuff of dreams

they change our minds like the seasons

yellow leaves, falling, from a blue sky

much is wrong about this life

So, we are living inside of dreams

Miracles

that never happen

Empty woods in winter

Fresh ideas

in spring

An endless summer,

where dreams bask in the warm wistful wind

until cold rains

and worries

win.

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16 thoughts on “Falling Dreams”

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