A Dream Is Cast In Many Things

A Dream Is Cast In Many Things short poem

Photo by AlicePopkorn

The night was never caught so clear
Each star was cast so crystalline,
So much wrapped in black velvet shade
Like moments clad in silken sheen,
And evenings’ artists drew their pictures
With their quill dipped in lunar ink
With the panache of forever
And the meaning of life’s link.

While the old man walked through shadows
There was much he could not see,
Though in his bright illuminations
He felt unchained and felt free,
His dreams had no defining need
For each he prayed alone,
A dream is cast in many things
Some gold and some of stone.

The old man’s thoughts pulsed silently
Like glow worms in the night,
He thought of when they were so dark
Then stepped into the light,
Where oh so many faces swim
In their silken Holy grace
And he knew where he was once more
As they smiled through moonlit lace.

And all at once he thought of dawn
And of a brand new day,
He wandered back through shades of time
Through all he used to say,
From Holy Prayers to whispered Psalms
From curses and from vows,
And promised himself once again
He’d let the then embrace the nows…

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