By Mark A. Leon

What dreams may come from this magical ride?
A merry go round of repeated wishes and hopes, desires and fears
Safeguarded on top of this ceramic beauty
Never want the ride to end, but it slows down
It eventually always slows down
Sense the motion slipping, losing its energy to the setting sun

Time
Time
Time

A linear puzzle filled with electricity that fuels and ignites
A line so thin and tender

One slip
One misjudgement
One
Just one

What dreams may come from this circular ride
Mountains
Oceans
Rivers and valleys

From the dryness of the desert to the rainfall of the forest
Feast on the famine
Starve in the gluttony, but keep the ride going

The subconscious storyteller, a lover of the imagination, a teller of tales that suspend reality

They let us fly
Break the walls of impossibility
Instill reminders of goodness
Never ending chapters of love and promise
Oh these are the reasons for living
The true gifts we cherish

What dreams may come if we only let them in