Follow the dream of that little kid
Who sat by the tree and wonder
What else there is
Follow the misty breeze
And the smell of grass
Lavender and fresh baked bread
Melting in the mind
Follow the warmth
And the thrilling flames
Of a borrowed memory
Burnt in the heart

Is there across the fields
Or at the top of a hill
Where I fly high, high
And dance with the wind
I Collect and bury the cottony charms
In the saturated blue
Of an open sky
A fall’s sky spreading itself
Like a blue canvas
Ready to be painted

I wait, yes I do
For the flickering whites
To slowly pour down
And knit
Knit the mantel for joyful footprints
And wishes trapped in angel wings

Follow the images
And mirrors of life
Hanging silently
In eaves and leaves
Then go back
Go back to that kid

Lying under the Christmas tree
Longing to be inside
Of the snow globe of her dreams




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