It was quite a dream you had.
All meaning, and color, and mess.
The snap of an epic story,
Flash fried in the space of a second.
Confused,
Unlikely,
Staring deep into your eyes,
And daring you to give it birth.
It was simply beautiful.
Beyond the inadequacy of words.
An image,
replayed in your waking mind,
Over and over again.
Repeated, mutated, collapsed
Grasped by the wrong tool
And finally, seconds later, dissolved.
Oh, you tried to hold on
But your hands were the wrong shape,
And too much slipped through the gaps.
You found you could bend the rules
And keep some if you held it just right.
So you kept just the feel of it
Though its color was lost
And you had to accept it was gone.
So. Now you’ve made love to a dream.
And you held to those final seconds,
Stretching them to minutes, hours, a lifetime.
A story you wrote, retained, rehearsed
And finally delivered to… nothing.
A poem, met with stillness
When the words were like fire in your mind
Burning — not to exhaustion, but fuel.
Powering you on to the horizon.
The blissfully unattainable line.
And just think, of all you’ve gained!
You learned to bend the rules!
It was you — you did this,
Never the dream, for the dream wasn’t real
Just a point in the distance, beckoning.
And you were the bridge, the bend in the road.
You were the friend it needed —
Not one to ask why it refused to be found,
But only that you walk together again some time.
It was quite a you the dream had made.
You, and for a moment, more.
A potential, a potency,
Left sitting to wander in the morning light
As the sun spread itself across the horizon.
The unattainable line,
Waiting for you to find its color again.
Waiting for you to be the bend in the road.
Waiting for you to summon the courage
To walk with it again.