Wednesday, June 17, 2009

On the wings of dreams

As the morning sun blazes a trail through the shear curtains of my room, I roll over to see the form sleeping next to me. What dreams flutter through the mind? Far away places. Cold mountain lakes caressed by melting snow. Picnic tables overlooking a battered bridge and a slow moving river. Starlit skies through the glass roof of a downtown hotel. Children's smiles and laughter. The silly, silent actions of a hand puppet professing its love. Reading a favorite bedtime story to a child. A full moon trying desperately to to cast its glow on roses in bloom. A warm stone bench in a hidden garden spot. Beach grass swaying in a warm summer breeze with the echoing sound of waves providing the rhythm for the dance. A tango. A soft, lingering kiss, tender, full of love. Strong but gentle arms encircling, holding, loving. A lone owl caught in the headlights of a car, silent, staring, wise and unafraid. Raven. Eagles. Heron. Falling then flying. Soaring on wings. Wings made from dreams.

1 comment:

listen for azure said...

I loved that statue in Astoria.