We would rise with sun streaming through windows,
beckoning to us to meet it's sacred face,
sleep when eyes heaviness became too much to bare
and eat, play, go, move as naturally as seasons change
without something to sound and remind them to get on with it.
If I could I would live free,
without need or want of money.
Lives would be handmade and
communities would be made up of people who helped others, gave and traded.
If I could I would make my living room into a gathering place for the church,
where coffee and tea would promote laid back, comfortable discussion and
no idea would be ridiculed and children would roam free and be loved.
If I could I would live in a cabin in the forest,
canopy of trees draping over us,
where snow would fall thick and we would warm ourselves
with quilts and dancing red fire during winter's deep.
Or maybe in a Hobbit hole,
hunkered down in the last homely house,
drinking tea and filling young stomachs while
green grows everywhere, a sea,
in the Shire.
If I could I would speak in poetry,
verse flowing eloquently,
words giving life to those who hear and
beauty resonating from broken lips.
If I could I would tell those naysayers,
those who say dreamers need to stay grounded,
need to keep their heads out of the clouds,
I would tell them dreams focus a person, dreams
dreams keep the broken going forward.
Dreams keep the broken going forward.
I am the broken.
If I could I would dream.
I can do.
"A dreamer is one who can only find his way
by moonlight, and his punishment is
that he sees the dawn before the rest of