The Sweetest Grape

Though your dreams may float on the edge of time Try to catch them beyond the bells of an horizon's chime. Hold on to the tail of it's melody With aid of the whispering wind Who quietly utters a new mind to bend. Now pick the sweetest grape from an entangled vine Which lies at the end of a fragile limb You sip the finest wine. And though you had the chance to fall See the magic within us after all. Now you hear the prophets cry out, "Only open my book in the dark of night And read my pages in the quiet candlelight. Bleed with me as each word burns; Leave your world as each page turns." Then can you cry out to the world, "Write me a poem worth reading; Paint me a picture worth seeing; Send me a letter worth opening And give me a dream worth believing."