On Dragon's Wings

Only in dreams does the world take us
To places we scarcely imagine
Not where we expect or where we plan
But in the length of our days, during sleep,
We see the grand possibilities burst forth
In glorious color in the full spectrum
We may be princesses in a royal palace
Or yet we may be princesses of the back streets
But let it not be said we did not lose our birthright
Wherever those dreams rise and dive, sweep left or right
For we follow and we bring with us our fine will
To travel in the steps of other dreamwalkers
Who have given their lives to the moment of sleep
And build their castles in the sky from whence
They emerge from the fog on dragon's wings.

The Bear

The bear walks slowly, his head rolling side to side,
Nodding and it growls a little, panting
As he walks through the woods
Knowing none can overpower him, because he knows
That even though his trivial meanderings are barely heard
They stand for something greater than the twittering birds
Which flutter in his face and then are gone.
For the slow, lumbering steps of the bear
Cover greater ground and shake more earth
And who is to say what measure of return
His path will reveal in time?

Allow It

Should you wonder what life could be like
If you had the strength, the wit and desire
To do exactly as you wished on any given day?
What gift hides within you to brighten the world?
Would you sing? Would you dig worms?
Would you fix broken things and help them last longer?
Would you take on the woes of the people
And help them to understand things could be better?
You could sew dresses or make fudge, tell jokes, perhaps.
All these things and more await your keen imagination,
With all your recognition that even in sparse times,
You still are worthy, talented, and remarkable
Capable of the most amazing things, if you will allow it.

Race Day

The snap of the whip makes muscles taut
As the haunches reach, digging deep
Hurtling the horse forward like a catapult
The rider springing to stand in the stirrups
Making himself lighter, more limber, a partner
To urge his mount to be aggressive, shooting
Like bottled lightning geared to mow the ground
That disappears behind him as he barely touches it.
And so is each steed with his rider
Expecting to devour the course and evict
It's stride, one after the other after another
Until at long last, stride no longer matches stride
And the victor, by sheer force of will,
Lays claim to its nose across the finish line.