about one for the dreamers

Sometimes I've heard myself described as a person with her "head in the clouds".  And always I find that offensive.  I'm sure it's not always intended to be, but have you ever felt like the world was trying to plant you somewhere practical and it was just the most annoying thing?  Yes yes yes, practicality is good and practicality helps you pay bills and make wise life decisions and blah blah blah.  But gosh, sometimes I just hate being told to be practical.  I want to daydream and I want to do the impossible. 

So I wrote this little poem tonight (I don't think I've written a rhyming poem since I was in middle school...) because I felt whimsical and I was thinking about how sometimes things seem so magnificent, so impossible to believe, that they take us away from all worldly burdens and (even if only briefly) make us feel free.  

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A Dream

I’d start the world over

upside down,

before breakfast walk

the length of the house

and feel sorry for the life

I led below.

For mispronouncing words,

clutter, for letting imperfection show

and rise like smoke. 

And then I’d just let all that go.  

With grace I’d ask the sky

to hold me, carry my feet

and then I’d leave and watch the

world be free –

watch rivers soar above me

like ribbons in a breeze;

watch clouds be made

from the colors of the sea.

I’d shake hands with all

the roots of trees.

And ask the moon if it was true –

that he pulled first

at the seams of earth

when it seemed like something fun to do.