Monday, August 12, 2013


that I might have the audacity to dream again,

something a man said about the audacity of hope
still echoes in my head,
something that the people embraced
but didn’t run too far with

perhaps it was just a seed
cast into the wind,
to land on either fertile soil
or solid rock,
a fate up to the currents of the air

that I might again give form to the formless,
mold from thoughts
something that can be heard, seen, felt,
even if when cast into the wind
it ends up being a pebble
flung into the ocean

at least I’d make a ripple,
at least I’d move matter,
at least I’d do something that could not otherwise
have been done

that I might find the will to create


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