Dreaming Back the World
The talking heads who
Would destroy the magic
Lived inside my mind
Too long
They sneered at paper tigers
Other charms I had
To ward off evil demons
While I slept.
And all the dragons
Turned back into windmills. There
Was no writing
On my paper sword.
The dragons took their fire
When they went away.
It’s hard to love or hate
The cold bleak structures
Littering the landscape
In their place.
We paint the colors
In ourselves.
And King Tut’s throne
I saw
Was really just the carcass
Of a long forgotten tree
With paint
And shelf life that would
Make a Twinkie proud.
And I myself became
A case, a vote, consumer
Human resource
Number on a census page,
And paid my taxes
Right on time
Stuck in limbo
Squashed between
Some other lonesome robots.
But now, I want to see
The iridescent spirits
Play among the leaves
And weeds of summer.
I want to see the
Snail trails sparkle
On the morning grass
And think they’re beautiful.
I want to feel again
some scorching heats and
Passions, exiles
Banished long ago
By common sense and logic.
I want those trolls
To get back under bridges.
I want to be
A person once again
And climb the beanstalks
Rage at giants
And believe that
Dog spit makes it better.
I must pack up
Those dreary demons
Logic, and his
Henchman Fact
Stick them back into
Their books and close
Their closets, two locks,
Maybe three
And only I
Possess the key.
And now, from down
Another road
I see the Tiger
Beckons me, and
Elves smile welcome
As I peek around that
Ancient corner in my mind.
I know I can reenter
Once again
The magic wondrous place
That knows no chemistry
Where I can think
and dream the world.
Apr 9, 2012
