Nothing is my everything

In dreams you can have one thing
be your everything.
But you must be a child
or at least childlike.
Every child wants to fly.
I’ve forgotten my flying dreams
but still remember the ones
where I hovered,
my back against the ceiling
even after I awoke.
The heavy yoke of sleep lifted
and my eyelids fought the weight of
lazy honey dreams.
And still I hovered above my bed,
my arms motionless wings.
Every child wants to fly,
and remembering is like dreaming –
nearly.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: