Dream

It’s been a long time

Since I’ve looked up-

Craning my neck

So that the night sky clouds my vision.

And all I see are stars.

You know-

Those promising flecks of white.

I used to dream of them-

I used to dream of stars.

Now?

I dream of wood-

Of cold cuts on stale bread,

Of which paper I’ll used to smite that ant on the pavement.

I dream of paperclips and hole-punchers,

Of the shadowy salutations I solicit from...

'Strangers?'

I dream of war and peace-

 Of poverty and politics

(My superiors say I must).

I dream of sleep,

Relief,

I dream of home,

A sacred place,

Where I can grip the slip of clay caked cross my countenance

and RIP!

And I can breathe again.

Still,

Despite the Burdensome,

Amazement-

For I have heart enough to dream.

So I’ll not fret,

No, not for long-

I’ve forgotten the magic,

Doled by stars, when eager eyes hear their song-

Their whispers of plentitude, desire and delight-

I’ll fight-

Against the hell-bound pull

Led by gravity.

Once more,

I’ll crane my neck and tilt my head to see those stars-

Believe the things they promise me-

Hope.