#Dream

THANKFUL FOR MY ABILITY TO DREAM

 

Today I’m thankful for my ability to dream…

knowing if a dream didn’t work out today…

all I have to do is wait…

because 

although a dream may have its disappointments…

it has no expiration date.

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THANKFUL FOR THE ABILITY TO DREAM

 

 

May we be blessed to acknowledge all the wonders in our life

that have, for us, thus far accrued…

and to begin each day with a word of thanks…

and thoughts of gratitude. 

 

Today I am thankful for my ability to dream…

making each day exciting…

and new…

thankful for all my dreams that have…

and are still waiting 

to come true

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CATCHING A DREAM

 

“Grandpa, when did you fall in love with Grandma?” His grandson asked one day.

His grandpa thought before he answered…for that was Grandpa’s way.

 

“Falling in love with your grandma was was easy” 

as he spoke these words Grandpa beamed.

“You see I have always believed and trusted in the power of my dreams.”

 

“I grew up with a dreamcatcher in my room, just like you, given to me by my dad.

That dreamcatcher allows the good dreams in and filters out the bad.”

 

“With only good dreams coming through…and all the bad dreams blurred

while I sleep each night it allows the whispers of my ancestors to be heard.”

 

“I didn’t know it at the time…

but the dream of your grandma was being set

by the whispers of my ancestors…created long before we met.”

 

“I was always taught that my ancestors set my dreams…

but I must do my part

for the only way to catch a dream…is with an open heart.”

 

“I’m blessed my ancestors guided me to your grandma…

for she and I were meant to be…

and I’m just as blessed her ancestors guided her to me.”

 

Grandpas face lit up as he watched Grandma walk into the room…

“But our story doesn’t end there.” He said. “as you might presume.”

 

Dreaming with our eyes closed allows the whispers of our ancestors 

to become our guide…

but it’s up to us to live our dreams.” He smiled at Grandma…

”with our heart and eyes open wide.

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NOTES FROM A MONSTER (DREAM CATCHER) NEATHHER BED

 

DEAR CHILDREN….

 

Many a poem and story have been written about imaginary beings like me.

How we are big, ugly, and frightening monsters…but I would have to disagree…

 

Since we are created in your imagination I think most of us are misunderstood…

You see we come in all shapes and forms and sizes…and most of us are good!

 

As far as being ugly…though your idea of beauty my features may not match

I assure you in the imaginary community I’m what’s known as quite a catch!

 

We are not hiding in your closets or underneath your bed…

and we don’t like being called monsters…we prefer dream catchers instead.

 

It is in your dreams where we dream catchers live…never do we lurk

and the moment you start dreaming is when dream catchers go to work

 

We watch your dreams as they’re projected…like a movie in your head….

capturing your bad dreams…

so we can hide them in your closets or safely neath your beds.

 

Your bad dreams are the only dreams we dream catchers will keep….

which means without any bad dreams to disturb you..you can get a good night’s sleep.

 

And in the morning with the rising sun…as you wake to a new day

once we’re sure you are awake…we throw those captured dreams away.

 

Only to return each night under the stars glow and the moon’s beams…

to help you get a good night’s sleep by monitoring your dreams.

 

So please…if you happen to wake up in the night…there’s no need for dread…

we are not monsters-in-hiding…but dream catchers neath your bed.

 

And if you happen to catch sight of us…here’s a little dream catcher advice:

Lean over…say hello…and every now and then…a thank you would be nice.

 

LOVE,

 

THE DREAM CATCHER

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THE DANCER AND THE DREAM

 

Have you ever wondered where dreams come from?

When is the exact moment our hearts and minds come together to see…

what it is we want to do in life…and who we’re meant to be:

 

She was dancing across the stage…

a mixture of beauty and power and grace…

and as she glided to and fro…her smile never left her face.

 

She flew as only dancers can…and with every leap and kick and curl…

on the grass in front of the stage…there was this little girl…

 

who, when the dancer started dancing got caught up in the groove…

and tried with all her might to imitate every move.

 

She leaped…she kicked…she curled with a childlike beauty and grace

and through every move she made…her smile never left her face.

 

I couldn’t help but smile as well…feeling blessed…excited…elated…

to be there at the moment when a dream was being created.

 

For of all the ways dreams can be formed…nothing has ever compared…

to a dream that out of nowhere…becomes a dream that has been shared.

 

I knew that dreams could soar and sail and float…as they enhance…

but today I got to witness first-hand…how dreams can also dance.

 
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THE STAR CATCHER

 

He met her on a moonlit beach…or was it a moonlit lake…or stream?

He’s not sure if she was real…or someone from a dream.

 

He’s pretty sure it was a beach…he could hear the tides and feel the sea breeze blowing…and he’s pretty sure it was a dream because all around him…the sand was glowing.

 

She was struggling with a net that reached high into the sky…and he heard her whisper to herself as he approached, “This would be much easier if I could fly.”

 

Encircling her feet was a cluster of sand-filled, glowing jars…when I asked her what she was doing she smiled, grunted and said, “I am brightening the stars.”

 

“You see,” she explained, “no matter with how much precision each star in the heavens is made, over time it is inevitable…their light begins to fade.”

 

“But when the light of a full moon in a cloudless sky hits the sands of the shores below…for one night and one night only every month…the sand begins to glow.”

 

“That’s when star catchers just like me…across the world come out…to catch the fading stars…and fill them with the moonlit sand we’ve captured in our jars.”

 

And when we’re happy that star is once again twinkling…burning bright…as quickly as we catch them…we return them to the night.

 

“Would you like some help?” I asked as she was pulling down a star.

She smiled…a tender smile and said, “Sure, go grab a jar.”

 

I shall never forget…that full moon…that girl…that twinkle in her eye

or that night we spent catching stars and returning them to the sky.

 

I shall never forget how the two of us made the perfect star catching team….

that wonderful night on the glowing sand…when I stepped out of my dream.

 

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A BUTTERFLY DREAM

 

Chuang Tzu (pronounced shuwang zee) was an ancient Chinese philosopher…when one night a vivid dream appeared before his sleeping eyes…in his dream he was not Chuang Tzu anymore…he was a butterfly.

 

After experiencing a dreamworld where he flew from flower to flower…where he felt so innocent and free…he awoke only to find he was not that butterfly…instead he was Chuang Tzu.

 

And he asked himself this now famous question…still asked in every corner of philosophy…Am I Chuang Tzu dreaming I was a butterfly…or am I a butterfly dreaming I’m Chuang Tzu?

 

Before you scoff at a butterfly that dreams and wonder if Chuang Tzu’s pondering was amiss…remember all butterflies, like us, change in stages…it’s called metamorphosis.

 

They enter into each stage innocent and when from that stage they finally escape…they have changed a little bit of who they are in their size and in their shape.

 

In the early stages they crawl and eat and sleep…they are somewhat quiet, reserved and shy…until the day their wings are formed and they begin to fly.

 

Every butterfly is beautiful as they soar from flower to flower or rest upon a leaf…sharing their beauty with the world for a little while….as their time on Earth is brief.

 

So perhaps Chuang Tzu’s thinking was not as far off as it seems…

Since we share so much with the butterfly…it’s easy to imagine they, too, might dream…

 

So I leave you with one final thought before heading on my way

a question, I imagine, Chuang Tzu might ask if he were her today:

 

Have I written this while sitting at my computer 

in the comfort of my home…

or is it possible…

could it be…

a butterfly wrote this poem?

 

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WAS IT JUST A DREAM

 

During the day I don’t think much about ghosts…perhaps by the sun I’m blinded…

but in the quiet ebony of the evening…I’m a little more open minded.

 

I awoke in the middle of the night…(when you’re older you’ll understand)

and was immediately taken aback… when my eyes…the front room scanned.

 

The room was supposed to be empty…but I was suddenly aware

shrouded in a hazy glow…Deborah’s mom…sitting in the rocking chair.

 

I’m not sure if she noticed me…in the early morning…long before the dawn

but after closing my eyes and reopening them…Deborah’s mom was gone.

 

Instantly I doubted myself…

Was it as real as it seemed?

Did I see Deborah’s mom sitting there…or was it just a dream?

 

I’m pretty sure I saw her…

which made me wonder once she was out of sight…

if Deborah’s mom doesn’t often come to visit her old cabin in the night.

 

Does she seek out the peace and comfort of that old rocking chair…

to revisit her old memories and feel the love still floating in the air?

 

Does she sit in the same chair Deborah sits in…to be reminded her how our lives are intertwined…does she smile as she remembers all the memories she left behind?

 

I like to think I saw her, if only for a moment, sitting in that chair…

but if it wasn’t her…if it was just a dream…I truly do not care….

 

Because if she was a dream or if I saw her…coming down from heaven for a rest…

Either way…I doesn’t matter…either way…I feel blessed.

 

Still I asked myself…was it a dream…but any doubt I’m now removing…

If it was a dream then why…

long after she seemed gone

was that rocking chair still moving?

 
 
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A TEAR UPON HER CHEEK

She tried desperately to remember her dream  

frantically trying to seek

the reason she awoke this morning

 

with a tear upon his cheek.


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