Dare to Dream
Asleep
It was a stunning sunset on the last evening of fall,
Oranges, pinks and reds, to the amazement of all.
And as the final light of day surrendered to the night,
Vibrant colors faded away to subtle shades of twilight.
Winter was knocking, cold hands rapped on the door,
A shiver crept through, striking straight to the core.
As night claimed its dominion, a dense fog rolled through,
Enveloping the valley, melancholy and blue.
It was a rare moonless night, as black as tar,
The heavens were hiding, not even a star.
All light was swallowed up in the shadowy dark,
The town was quiet and barren, unusually stark.
Standing on his porch, he stared out into space,
His breath, a hint of warmth upon his rugged face.
Sipping his bourbon, the liquor warmed his throat,
A blanket wrapped around him, no need for a coat.
He felt a heaviness within, “Where has my joy flown?”
He sensed something was coming, something unknown.
Leaving his cabin, he walked over to the dock,
Time felt unending, like a halted, broken clock.
At the edge of the pier, he got down into the boat,
And pushed off with the oar, now free and afloat,
Slowly he drifted into the middle of the lake,
Where he then laid down, eyes open, awake.
Against the boat, the water lapping was all he could hear,
It was peaceful and quiet, there was nothing to fear.
Looking up at the sky, his mind then wandered,
“Whose life am I living? So much time have I squandered.
Expected goals and ambitions, but what of my desires?
I am restless, I am lonely, how my soul tires.”
Then the weight of the cold and the exhaustion of night,
Pressed down upon him, too powerful to fight.
And in the stillness outside, where shadows once crept,
A whisper of hope through the darkness then swept.
The stars in his mind began softly to gleam,
Hinting at worlds where the soul could still dream.
And so, he slept.
Awake
In the boat, on the pond, in a deep, solemn, slumber,
He fell into a world where no rules do encumber.
A world of fantasy where every wish comes alive,
Where spring is eternal and every hope does thrive,
Where every dream and desire comes into fruition,
Where life simply abounds without any condition.
His eyes fluttered open, uncertain of what had happened,
But the heaviness had lifted, inside, he was gladdened,
The mountains, the lake, the boat, all was changing,
Everything in life was now suddenly rearranging.
New worlds emerged, he saw realities that could be,
Places that existed full of hope and opportunity.
In one of the visions, he saw his life on a beach,
Looking out into the ocean where the whales did breach,
And he worked at the coffee shop greeting guests by their names,
“Good to see you, Georgie! Hello, how are you, James?”
It was such a simple life, no pressures, no worries,
Connecting with humanity, hearing their stories.
And then he turned around, and he saw a different vision,
In an orphanage, children wrestling, what a grand collision,
Their laughter was sheer joy, their giggles full of life,
Ignorant of the real world and all of its strife,
And although he was not a father of his own,
These kids he helped raise until they were grown.
And again, he turned to another world full of wonder,
Riding horses on the high plains, their hooves like thunder,
Crossing over rivers, exploring canyons at sunrise,
He cared for these animals so majestic and wise,
The wind in his hair, it was the essence of freedom,
A land without limits, he explored a new kingdom.
And with the blink of his eye, another world did he enter,
A dancer in the limelight, on stage front and center,
There in his eyes, one could see a deep vast ocean,
As he used his body to express the truth of his emotion,
Each movement held meaning, a visual narration,
And in that moment, he was truly part of creation.
And then he awoke.
Awakened
As the visions retreated, like mist on the dawn,
A quiet resolve in his heart had been drawn.
Each vision he experienced drew from part of his spirit,
But never before had he felt so close, so near it.
All fed from a source pouring out from above,
Sustained by a force that could only be Love.
The dreams left their mark as he reemerged among the living,
He took a deep breath, his heart full of thanksgiving,
For the reminder of why he was there on that earth,
To live fully alive, pursuing that which has worth.
To honor his values, using the gifts he was bestowed,
To make use of the remaining time, all of which is borrowed.
And finally, then he realized the chains around his wings,
He was anchored to the world by the mere weight of things.
All the efforts to live such a practical existence,
He now understood why he felt so much resistance.
Fear had masked its presence in being safe and secure,
But he gave up his passions, his purpose, his desires pure.
Determined, he now rowed on the mirrored black lake,
With fervor in his stroke, knowing what was at stake.
Though the darkness still lingered, an aura emerged, bright,
His eyes all aglow, full of hope, there was light.
Reaching the dock, he climbed back onto dry land,
Walked into his home and sat down, pen in hand.
Unceasingly he wrote of the dreams he once had,
Previously wishful thinking, that of a young lad.
But each word that came forth cut a link in his chains,
And a palpable energy began to course through his veins,
His heart began to swell, hope for a different tomorrow,
One full of intention, passion, leaving behind sorrow.
As he looked around his home, he felt a pang of doubt,
“Will I find what I’m looking for, taking a different route?
It’s uncertain, but what I know is the loneliness I am living,
To pursue these wild dreams, they may be unforgiving,
But I have only to gain taking a chance, an adventure,
This life I won’t sacrifice, I will not be indentured.”
And so, he awakened.
Alive
Many pages he penned, that fateful night when he dreamed,
A wellspring opened up, gushing forth, how it streamed,
And then quite by chance, a final vision emerged,
An untamable force was now starting to surge.
He smiled, writing furiously, damp eyes, a single tear,
And then he closed his journal, the path before him was clear.
Touched down on the runway, his new life was to begin,
Clearing customs and immigration, his face, one big grin,
The lake became a river with banks made of cobblestone,
And the trees around his lake became streetlamps that shone,
Bright halos of light reflected from all around,
Both from up above and below, off the wet ground.
Down the grandes boulevards, at first, he did glide,
But with each step he took, he soon found his stride,
Walking through the old worlds of kings, queens and lords,
He heard the accordion playing, its harmonic chords,
Haussmann storefronts with their windows all bright,
Gourmands eating supper, such merriment and delight.
‘Twas a beautiful night in Paris, the first hint of spring,
So much energy in the city, much life it did bring,
Around his neck, he wrapped his scarf, so soft and warm,
Leaving his coat unbuttoned, true to French form,
Walking home from a dinner party, he passed many cafés,
Tables full of conversations and drinks and ashtrays.
In his one hand he held an umbrella in case of rain,
Then a thought crossed his mind, “Perhaps, some champagne?”
And in his other hand, he then felt a touch so sweet,
His lover’s hand met with his, he felt so complete.
So, they stopped at the corner brasserie walking home,
“Garçon, une bouteille,” they ordered from Bar Vendôme.
“To this life we are living and all that it could be,
To a world full of love, to you and to me.
To this moment of presence, with you, it’s pure bliss,
Thank you for finding me in a world such as this.”
They raised up their glasses under the moon’s soft glow,
And in the warmth of their love, they let time gently flow.
And so, he finally lived.
The world’s full of adventure, grander than it may seem,
But to discover all its magic, one must dare to dream.
Dane Dowell
August 8, 2024