The Dream - the Real

It’s a flight of misgivings. Travels, to distinction. With passports in hand… vision is lost. A fog storm, of epic proportions. “Oh – (sigh and huff, wailing) Where do we go?! What do we do?!” (whining) Whining… Such a gift, wasted. A trip down memory lane, I will blow kisses. And you wave from the front deck. We think our trauma connotes celebrity. We think our problems are the DEAL – BREAKERS. I will high five drama, And you will sob in the corner. OR… Handed a new map. Written on a sheet of grace. I will hold my own hand, And you will include me, in all your trips. No running. No silly. Good silly. We are not a straight line, Circles, planets, spirals, Drawn in the prettiest of colours I could find. Glowing thru the prettiest love I could find. Once upon a time A hero Met an angel… and a circle will grow glowing.