Occasionally I will post a poem or some other piece of writing on my blog under the title “Adventures in …” Why? Because I like sharing and sometimes I write things that I don’t feel like publishing, for one reason or another. And if I’m not going to publish it through traditional channels, I might as well share it.
The following poem is certainly not one of my best. I don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote it. But it is the first poem I’ve written with the note feature of my Zune HD. That’s pretty cool, no?
Anywho. Feel free to let me know what you think.
The dream slips into nothingness,
the chasm a story that never ends
and whips the world into a warped waking of minds.
Who are we in the dream
but the tender wisps
of someone’s eldest aspirations?
Who do we become
in another’s dreams
but the hope transposed
over the globe of the soul.
When we grow into our own snow globes
we turn the dream upon itself
to become the careful display of nostalgic longing.
Until one day the new child
forms from the chiasmic center
of a hurricane ocean of imaginations.
Until we become ourselves
the makers of globes.