Why We Dream What We Dream

This anything, I think its like me. Too much goes like the wind in her strange metaphors. Soft wind, raging wind, silent breeze, and silence louder still, saying she's being discreet. (we use it all the time, and with reasons) That IF you manage with hard determination to capture it, to contain it, and IF you succeed, then nothing is done for the thoughts. It never stops, or it leaves traces to follow from the point where it started, to wherever that leads. We, just this way (employing our natural graces) chase dreams. We can do nothing else but resign ourselves to the dream already in place by something else. (or trade them for what we can) Our own greatest passion often the whore of us. So it is. Love, loss, or compromise. If it's not, then it's something else.