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Ballad Dream Poems | Ballad Poems About Dream

These Ballad Dream poems are examples of Ballad poems about Dream. These are the best examples of Ballad Dream poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Ballad | |

To Dream Of You

My lady come to me this night
In dreams so soft and sweet
Cross into my abode,my home
So then we two may meet

Now then you'd speak to me of love
You'd talk with words divine
I would take heed to all you spoke
I'd thank the Lord you're mine

To dream of you my lovely lass
Is what I want my dear
To dream of you my lovely lass
I'd hold you oh so near

These words I send they come so free
Of all my hearts desire
To think that you might come to me
Has set my heart on fire

Such dreams are all I have for now
Of you and me embraced
To sleep perchance to dream of love
To see you face to face

To dream of you my lovely lass
is what I want my dear
To dream of you my lovely lass
I'd hold you oh so near

Copyright © Charles Reese

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A Pocketful of Dreams

I have a pocket Full of dreams
that, I carry wherever I go
I wonder what dreams I'll dream tonight
for I never seem to know

I closed my eyes to drift asleep
as I reached in for a dream
I grabbed one tight within my hand
then, flying became the theme

Now, I'm in a dream and flying
and, this feeling of flight is grand
I have no wings to fly at all
Yet, my feet lift off the land

I used my mind to fly around
such freedom I can feel
For, deep down in my heart I know
that flying can't be real

I woke with the dream of flying
And yet, it's never as it seems 
But, I know I'll dream this dream again
from my pocketful of dreams

Copyright © Roger Horsch

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A House On the Cliff's Edge

There is a house on the cliff’s edge,
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline
At night, the tide lifts high against a foggy moon
In the morning, gloomy clouds settle with the sea
At times, not even the birds are seen or heard
The house is left to nature’s caress

Home-crafted seashell chimes sway and sing with the wind
Crushed sand dollars lie together on the back porch
The shells were once whole, collected by the former owners
Long gone are they now, smiling with the moon
The owners are the very sound of the ocean spray,
Striking the rocks, announcing the cool dawn of day
They are not the dark, empty rooms,
The rooms that nobody thinks of as they go about their lives
The quiet owners are long gone—thought of only by one
A stillborn legacy about as tiresome as the sun,
When the clouds crisp out its beams . . .

A seawater puddle is in the middle of the dining room
Nobody knows it sits there, sinking in the floorboards
It used to be a far larger puddle after a storm,
Stealthily leaking into the house
But now it is small—so small—and the boards are moist,
Moist with its only companion amongst the instilled silence

Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
They were not much for socials and gatherings
They always lived their quiet, happy lives
Without a care of the outside world,
Far from anybody’s thought
Miles from the nearest home
Where the next generation comfortably lives 

He never finished fixing that leak . . .

Sometimes the puddle gets bigger after other storms
And when it does, there is almost life there again
You can see the chandelier reflected on the unperturbed water
As a crystal dangles and falls from on high
The dark silence following the drop is as deep as thought . . .

Nobody thinks of empty, abandoned rooms
Nobody remembers the former owners
There is merely a house on the cliff’s edge
Around a quiet, unmarked shoreline

-March 21, 2013-

Copyright © Laura Breidenthal

Details | Ballad | |

Ashes of my dream

Strings all over me
Pulling me backwards
Tying me down
Down the ashes of my dreams

My fear blazed like a wild fire
Their tongues scorched me like devouring wild fire
Their tongues had no positive utterance in my dream 
I could see my dream in ashes

Despite scorching heat of criticism
My dream never died 
In the ashes of my dreams I could see it striving
I could see a flicker of a flame surviving the dying fire 

One complement snatched me out of a blazing fire 
Like a helicopter, it flew me away from my fears 
Up in the sky my dream withered ashes like a tree tilt its old leaves
It was not just a ride but a revival of my dream

Like a surviving little piece of wood in ashes 
My dream is alive and has kept me fighting 
My dream is now a reality; you can do the same with yours 
Never let your dream perish in ashes of your dreams

Copyright © Bongani Zungu

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  Fever dreams and rusted scissors. There’s only two ways to look at this night. I awake only to have a gritty taste of bone dust in my throat. A reminder of events past. Sweating plagues, rebuilding strength for the hunt that’s to come. I can barely open my eyes. Thoughts of old cloud my judgment. I shouldn’t think these things, but the thoughts commence infernally. My glands are swollen. I know there’s an infection within, Viral?? Mental? I’ve seen these nightmares up close and have fed deep into their madness. It’s autumn now and yet I long to sit in the garden. Bleed upon the stone, Lost in lucid trance. No more memories, no more hauntings. I must purge these inside weaknesses to start anew. Arise structured forms, sway and move at my command for I am creator. This sickness shall fall and wither as the leaves of change. Skin, fall, wither so the insects will consume. Light dwelling within must surface and speak.  I no longer fear change, I embrace it.     

  Spread my ashes in the bloom of nature’s glow, for Memories on wings of a hymn shall be rebirth. Give power to symbols and names.  The children swarm down the swamp’s end, Awaiting the movement.  Unsung, Blood fills our lungs as we go. The whispers from the dead keep me up at night. There’s fear outside your door. That the devil may bite. Reside in my garden and drink deep the waters of my insanity.    
Buried within one’s self is the creator of existence. A god inside an animal. Acknowledgments bring growth. Watch it flourish. 

Copyright © Pauly Plaster J.R.

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The dream

           We danced
In the light of the full moon
           Our steps 
Directed by the stars above
           The music
Was the whispering wind
The sound of two hearts beating
            It was Magic
Hands touching,Bodies close and in rythm
Stars in her eyes,soft voice
            The end
A smile so bright,Lips about to meet
I wake;It was a dream
             The wait
For the sun to set
As the dream world invites me
To dance with you again

Copyright © Edmond Ornelas

Details | Ballad | |


Hello Darkness, my old friend
My arms out stretched
I'm here again
Inside my dream I walked alone
Inside the night I roamed.
Reaching out to all who hear
Reaching out through silent tears
But no one hears and no one came
My dream repeats this silent song

A song my voice longs to share
A song of flight I sang, I dared
A song of light in colored sight
Reaching out to all those Here
Singing out through silent tears
But no one hears and no one came
My dream repeats this silent song

Through my eyes, my heart, my tears
I sing a song that Darkness fears.
But no one hears...
A song my voice longs to share
This song I sing, a vision dared

Hello Darkness my old friend
Your story told in this dream again
And in the piercing light I saw
Your eyes on me...
and your eyes are raw
Your time has passed
Your shadow dim
Here we stand, at the gates again.
Voices silent in a time called When
A bend this day...
Through spiraling winds.

And in this piercing light I saw
Your eyes on me
and your eyes are raw...

Hello Darkness my old friend
My arms out stretched,
I'm here again...

Your eyes,
My hand,
Your mind,
My pen
Our voices silent
In a time called When
My dream repeats this song again.

Copyright © Izzy Gumbo

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Waiting for you

Once told you I wanted you, Look at us now. Feel that I need you. I’m not quite sure how. Let you in and I don’t want you to leave. Is this something you can believe. 
I’m losing myself in your expression, not letting you go now that’s my confession.
Your right in front of me and my body is still. Counting my blessings, can this be real? Felt your lips touching mine, Still cant get this out of my mind. 
Caught up in each other we’ve lost track of time, With each moment that passes I realize your mine. 
If this is a dream I beg you  not to wake me, If its meant to be we’ll feel it inside. Cant control my feelings I’m all over the place. My hands feel so empty not holding your face. Don’t want this to end, I Cant let this end.
Don’t mind me while my eyes ponder you, I would stop but none of me wants to. Starting to leave now, cant seem to go. Feeling you want me, its starting to show. Pulling me closer,  I’m losing my breath. Losing my breath again.
If this is a dream I beg you  not to wake me, If its meant to be we’ll feel it inside. Cant control my feelings I’m all over the place. My hands feel so empty not holding your face. Your all that I've wanted, all that I've needed. How did it begin, I know this wont end.

Copyright © Whitney Warren

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For them

For them.

To her the word love refers to a boy.
Something she yearns for and misses dearly.

The day they met was cold and fraught with January chill.

“Oh, that does seem so long ago.”

That is the untarnished memory she replays over and over again when events in her life go array.
Back then it was tangible and real, their lives together had not been succumb to so much misery and woe.

They have triumphed, failed, and even caused each other more pain than can be imagined; But through it all they always walked the path together, holding each others hand.

She loves him unconditionally and for that some people cant understand but love needs no excuses, certainly not for them.

She adores him for working so hard, slaving to the man trying to base a future and a plan for them, but she feels guilty that  their small American dream over the years has always led down a dead end.
With today’s hard times she knows they are not to blame, but still her idol hands carry burden with them.

A plot of land, a small farm, and a home to call their own so they may grow old.
that’s all the pair desire.

He loves her to, a thought that at times is unfathomable.
He admires her dreams, even if they are bigger than the world and never distills fear in her that they wont one day come true. She thinks ill rationally and believes in things as a child would, but this merely makes him smile at her spontaneous outlook.

To him she is like a wild bee, searching ferociously for something.
At times he doesn’t think she will ever find it, that’s why its so hard to see her cry.

Life hasn’t been fair for them.
It’s a tragic book that just keeps reading on.

But they muscle through living on their dream and knowing that as long as they have each other, everything will be alright.

And as they drive home to their house with no walls, catching glimpses of each other in their ratty car they don’t feel so alone.

Behind those blue eyes, she will be forever nineteen to him and to her, as she gazes into his brown large pupils; the boy she knows has grown into a man and at that moment they know, one day all the sacrifices they have made will pay off.

Copyright © Whitney Hart

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A Child's Dream Come True

As the sunsets at the end of the day,
And the night begins to fall,
So, does all the dreams of all the little children,
In their own wonderlands of their own,
Wishing and thinking of great things to come,
Hoping their parents will make these dreams come alive,
Cause dreams to children should become bright and gleam,
And all to them more than just alive,
All children want is hopes and dreams to become true,
But if you can teach them how to work hard at them,
They too can make their dreams become their own reality,
For any one person works hard enough,
At what they want in life,
They can have any one thing they want,
All they have to do is work really hard to make it real,
For believers can believe in themselves,
And strive to work toward making their own goals,
Their very own come true,
Which gives more satisfaction in life,
Than things being handed to you,
So always strive for the best,
And all your wishes and dreams can come true,
In your life if you want them too.

Copyright © John Hembree

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Broken Dreams

  Do you believe in the things that you've always known,
Can you understand the things you've been shown.
   Is it the visions you see that make you believe,
Or is the feelings you get when you've been deceived.
    The pain you feel a never ending ache ,
Tearing your heart and soul from you every day.
    Time ticks slowly pounding away at you,
Throbbing heart breaking and there's nothing you can do,
    Must I settle for these lost and broken dreams,
Because it has all the signs that what it seems.
    How much should a man endure to find his way,
It cant possibly be like this hard for me every day.
    There is nothing so frustrating as being so confused,
Especially when you've discovered that you've been used.
    I will get through this lonely phase I have no doubts,
But I'm sure there will come a day I'll figure it all out.
    Cautiously I walk the path that's been laid before me,
In faith I will continue for I know he will let me see.
    Life will be thrown at you in so many different ways,
I will be prepared for these things for the rest of my days.
    Broken dreams will be the learning tree for me to grow ,
Living my life with Joy Happiness is what I'll always Know.


Details | Ballad | |


Blessed, honoured, sacred
 tender love abides,

Embrace, protect, respect 
 sweetest new white bride

As what you cultivate 
 into your  shared life

Will flow Inside of you
 a million times twice

Copyright © Suzanne C. Goudreau

Details | Ballad | |

Best Friend

I remember the very first time I saw you,
You wiped the sweat off your forehead,
I remember what all I use to say to you,
Followed my heart, I love you,
Maybe I needed to guard what I say,
Or express it in another way,
I hope I did you no harm,
Or is that what you call destiny,
Please know in your heart,
Eventhough how things played out,
My life and all its' worth,
Worth calling existing - living,
And without ever crossing paths,
My life would have been blah,
Words can not express how I feel about you,
Celebrate our love, if nothing more ever than be my best friend,
You are my very breath and hope of hearing from and possibly seeing you,
The very reason I make it through another day,
Our love we will celebrate far and away,
But in my heart, you are right here with me today,
I love you friend,
You make this world and all it contains worth living,
My heart smiles when it thinks of you,
I will somehow express my heart before I leave this earth,
So much I want to say,
I don't want to complicate things,
I just want you to be healthy, happy and carefree,
I know you love me,
You don't have to say it like I so often do,
I knew day one, 
When I became good friends to you!
I love you, boo!
I do!
Best of luck,
Live like you were dying!

Copyright © Jason Fisher

Details | Ballad | |

The Lottery

Cars raced passed, 
As I patiently waited, 
Nervously filled with distrust. 
At a crossing where safe crossing, 
Is now indicated, 
This courier of fortunes 
Not yet out of luck. 
I pick up my pace 
Like a man on a mission. 
My thoughts now a vortex 
Of possible plays. 
But to visit this office 
A long planned decision. 
The matter at hand 
Sheer providence dictates. 
The doors open freely, 
I enter within, 
To the cheers of firm staffers 
And welcoming smiles. 
Word had spread quickly 
To my eyes and chagrin, 
At the expense of my privacy, 
My name now beguiled. 
The anteroom sanctum 
Filled with polite pushy haste, 
Containing serious suits 
Who’d not rise from their seats, 
Till proof be their witness, 
No moment to waste, 
And the breech of my privacy? 
Short apology, hurried movement,
And onward at a feverish pace! 
Careful inspection and lens, 
Quickly confirm my declare, 
Faces stiffened to stifle,  
The emotional urge; 
To rejoice while an outside call  
To far voices is made, 
Numbers again shared, 
One through six, double check,  
Final digits confirmed. 
Moods shifted quickly 
As reality spawns. 
To great cheers
And some fanfare,  
Till ushered away; 
With military precision, 
And much tinted glass, 
Police guarding me 
And ticket, 
From mayhem this day. 
Since winning the big one, 
I've gained many friends, 
Among them some old ones
Who at best were estranged; 
Now calling me sir, 
With no memory of past, 
Nine figures and wow, 
Both handsome AND popular... 
...finally, at last!

© Michael Wegman, 2014

Copyright © Michael Wegman

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I'm going through and i can
Tomorrow there 'll be a sun
After the storm rainbow comes
Someday I will hear the beat of the drums.

Watching my dream fades away
Hoping to see it once again someday
Nothing left on me anymore
But I 'm going to stand once more.

I promise to keep on moving
Even these fears keep on striking
Hardly trying to take me down
I 'll give it a continuous round.

I 'll never let it end like this
Though I 'm staggering and feeling selfless
Tomorrow I 'll get it done
This heart says I will and I can.

Copyright © Reuben Escarlan

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Living my dream

Living my dream

I had one dream when I was young
To go to another land
In life I wasn’t satisfied
I wanted something grand
Lions, tigers. Kangaroos
And all those wild, wild beasts
Africa, South America
Or Australia at least.

Possessive Mother was my curse
How could I get away?
Every time I mentioned it
She had so much to say
And made me feel so guilty
Really cramped my style
And then one day there came along
Something to make me smile

I’d just turned my nineteenth year
When this great girl came along
She hailed from West Australia
And filled my heart with song
So we got married, had some kids
And here we are in Oz
Been here for half a century
And I came here all because

It was my fate to find this girl
She was my destiny
There’s be a whisper in the skies
That knows how things will be
It takes one’s soul, and leads it on
So growth, it might occur
And I know that west Australia
My heart, it sure does stir.

4 August 2013 @ 1440hrs.

Copyright © Peter Duggan

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The Dream

Oh, do you know the finest road
That leads to my desire?
Nobody walks that trail but me,
My dreams will set to fire.

That one heart I was looking for,
The heart of Anthony,
The purest heart I’ve ever seen,
Someone perfect for me.

A dream occurred while I’m asleep
We’re walking hand in hand,
We sat down, I lean on his chest
Down there on fine, white sand.


Another night, another dream
It made me feel in awe
"I'm weary of this journey, love,
I want to be with you"

My tears fell down but I smile,
The feelings were the same
So when he turned and looked at me
I said “I want your name”


Copyright © Daisie Vergara

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My Name is Violet

I'm social,
filled with compassion,
sensitive to forms of pollution,
but creative who seeks out inspiration.

I am a mystery,
born with the blood of royalty,
recognized of high nobility, 
as wealth surrounds me with luxury,
A dreamer who dreams upon reality,
connecting with the world spiritually an physically.

I am a person who seeks the meaning of life,
the balance between its darkness an light,
I am a person who dreams of accomplishments,
I am someone who desires love an fulfillment,
I am someone you can reasoned with,
I am known as Ms. Violet.

Copyright © verlena dillard

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Sleep Madrigal

Sleep's the Great Healer—
Sleep's the Revealer
Of hidden meanings,
Unbidden gleanings.

When sorrow aches us,
Sleep overtakes us—
Stealing away grief,
Like a welcome thief.

Night is the coverlet
For a longing lover— yet
It's Sleep who delves
Deep into our selves,
Finding dusty dreams... on shadowy shelves.

When life's a jailor,
Sleep's the unveiler
Of an inner key...
To set us free.

Sleep's our best friend
At a hard day's end—
Weaver of fantasy... with reality,
Make-believer of what could be...
Sleep's the Great Healer... of you and me. 

– Harley White  

< 1987 >

Copyright © Harley White

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Endless Nightmare

In an empty world,
And a room with no space,
There’s a hidden door,
To a forbidden place,

A place with no voices,
No voices to hear,
A mysterious world,
If you enter to dare,

Where everything’s grey,
And dark colored walls,
With windows of stain,
And endless halls,

It comes through the night,
It’s a place in your dreams,
When you can’t wake up,
From a nightmare of screams.


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Colors Everywhere

It’s so much easier to just live in memory.
Easy to taste chocolate cake.
To see who loved me and ate from my kitchen.
A lovely day with friends
is so very far away now…
I try with my hand but can’t touch it.
Even in dreams I don’t have the pleasure.

It doesn’t feel good to write about 
the reasons.
They aren’t tangible anyway.
As the world spins by
whole and beautiful…
I watch as it goes round and round.
and wonder…
Could it stop for a moment and I’ll get on?
Sounds easy enough.
But so much separates me from this.

Out in a field, I see the distance.
Everything there says “go”.  Just get on.
Hesitation, then, I’ve missed my chance.
Am I wearing the wrong clothes?

I soften with the evening time
and melt into everything.
Let me say a prayer which brings me 
some kind of understanding…
Everything will come easy.
Sparkly and colors everywhere.

Copyright © Melody Sokolow

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New Year's Eve

Can’t think about the Year that didn’t last
Can’t fight the time and how it passed so fast…
Voices were cheerful that night
Everyone was full of silver light

I heard the sounds but didn’t care
I couldn’t help but only think and stare…
I dreamed of love that possibly I’ll never share
And of life that was just like a fairytale.

In that second of complete despair
I saw the moon and realized it was all a dare
Then your voice whispered in my ear
Promising me all I needed to hear…

Copyright © Gergana Skywalker

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The mind that opens to new idea never
Comes back to its original size... Einstein.
I shall become a great writer when I grow up.
Then I will write about love and affection,
The negative side of love to mankind.
I will write about the evils in my fatherland
The bad leaders with their ego so high
To exploit the masses of their lily pride.

I will write about the calamity of humanity
That once lived in paradise earth but now
Dwells in dungeon with a lost host and dreams.
I will write about Ugonna and his feelings
Of hatred towards his father for hitting his mother
Not knowing that the old man was right in his deed,
What could a man do to a wife that dances outside.

I will write about the custom and tradition
Of my humble country home, nkporo.
When I grow up, I shall write about this place
How we grew up around this house chasing pretty girls.
I shall write about wole soyinka, chinue Achebe, j p clarks,
Chimamanda Adichie, Moremi, Oganigwe,Helon Habila,
Tunji sotimirin, Niyi Osundare, femi osofisan,
Ahmed Yerimah, samson iyanda, folu agoi, frank Eze.

I shall recreate the world with my speaking pen
Which have bEen in my shelf since my day one.
I shall pass a message through my biro.
I shall not just be a writer when I grow up
But a great and fantastic write with a great repute internationally.
Soon, I shall leave the four corners of this class room
To the street where life begins and ends,
Having to know what matters at the  time it matters.

Copyright © john chizoba vincent

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A Love Lost

Caught inside a painting,
A Rembrandt, made of her family's hopes and dreams

Searching for happiness,
Within a two dimensional canvas, little scope there seems

Outside the colours,
Someone captivated by her beauty, hearing her empty screams

Only for the key,
Longing to be outside, he opens the door and beams

Filled with intrepidation,
Beckoning “come outside”, his love for her it teems

She turns away,
For others she must stay, hiding from her dreams.

Copyright © Infectuous Romantic

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As the Dream Unfolds

     One seeks refuge 
in sleep 
  Dreams arrive 
A fantasy world which 
is based on real life events
What passions, what vivid images fill the 
   sleeper's mind!
The heart has it's own solutions 
which it seeks to answer 
in dreams 
   Hours before daybreak
   you are in another world 
   Can our visions help us? 
   Hopefully, like Joseph of old did
   our dreams will be correctly interpeted 
   A new dawn is on it's way!

Copyright © Matthew Anish

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A Shared Dream

Chills of comfort
as smooth as skin 
grazing grey stones. 

In the next room-
technology is hard at work
churning, turning
while the guitar gently rifts. 

Harsh winds are whipping, 
we are lying 
above a pale yellow floor
across a hazy tundra.

Copyright © Katelyn Dobbs

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I dreamed in a dream
I walked through an island
An island full of fruits and flowers
Its dazzling scenic view
Mesmerized me
I woke up in that dream
And the dream still a dream
But that dream is reality
Now I am eating Durian
But still a dream
Before I forget
Those flowers are you!


Copyright © Neldy Jolo

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A cup of coffee we met
Miles of ride we went
Ideas, opinions we vent
Few minutes we spent

On the coolness of the light
I heard laughter so dear
High up staring to the skies
Picture of you not a liar

You play jolly to quiet songs
Asking me sometime what wrong
Fallen short yet been long
I didn't know, we can get along

by: olive_eloi


Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo

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Make Aim to the Star

The motion of the tides and movement therein beckons on to me, 
Silent as it moves over the oceans width, gentle as a wind from the sea;
A mystery is the future of our passing lives, only a semblance of what’s to come, 
Through the miracle of our own emotion, or the brilliance of the setting sun,
For in the time it takes to aim at a star, we may only get to the moon
The passions of hope to a child is measured in an instant of time,
A sound so soft is the prodigy of ones time, making faith in our own religion…
Captured is the sight of a comets storm, or the twinkle from centuries past,
Yet the wisdom we gain from our dark privations is held in the semblance of space,
But we reach in thought to a billion years like the measure of a second past by 

Look to the wisdom in the extent of our lives, and relinquish all that’s gone before,
Our strongest belief is held deep in the heart, like that which shone from a star;
So bright the light that beams through darkness, over oceans deep and wide
But held secure waits the aspect of a man, and the realm of his wants and desires;
For in the time it takes to aim at a star, we may only get to the moon   

Copyright © Mark Norton

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When The Wolf Cies

 When The Wolf Cries 
The wolf cries out to the great chief in loneliness, pain and sorrow/ Not because his pack is hungry but because his people are hungry/ He cries because he smells defeat and anguish among his own/ He hears their life, their death and he hears their dreams…….
 The wolf cries out to what seems like nothingness for some thingness/ He cries not because his pack is changing but because his people are changing/ He sees very few cultural leaders left if anymore left and many more young lost souls that continue to follow/ He cries because his very own pack has divided themselves among their own culture and very own way of life…….
 He cries not because his people are now living but because his very own culture is dying/ So he cries out for a leader to step up above all obstacles and bring back the dream of the buffalo so that it may roam again in our minds and our young hearts again/ He yearns for the dream of not one but many leaders to walk up our own staff’s high altitude to humbleness and gratitude/
 He cries because he can see that we are killing each other but more important is ourselves/The eagle seems to be caged and our warriors of many become imprisoned from death and self-destruction which can seem like the end of the trail/ But the day is coming when he will see a young modern day chief walk that less traveled path so that once again his people and their very own dreams on eagle wings fly when the WOLF WILL TRULY CRY……..

Copyright © Travis Lone Hill