A Glimpse of Reality

He who searches for what does not exist,
Becomes the absence of those things he thought were real
The things he thought he would find,
They have no truth or depth in the fabric of reality
He grew up with visions of how it would be when he was older,
Dreamt how everything fell right into place like the movies
The reality of his errant choices set in some years later,
It showed a gray picture on the giant screen, lost was all color
Maybe he could have done it different, more likely he was just coping with what he had
The decisions he made were the best ones he could fathom at the time
You never see where you are going to land when you are 17 and flying
He knows now that those things made him who he is this morning
It took every ounce of that past to mold him into something real
He is better for the ghosts he has left behind, He accepts his past fervently
For chasing ghosts almost took him away from this life
Though they promised him great earthly dreams
They were no more real than the addiction that kept him drowning
Spectres of an underworld, Perched on their liars' thrones mocking his infinite sorrow
Let them mock now for he found his way out of that tunnel, yet not too far away
For he must always be mindful from which he came, lest he return to its madness
Today he yet dreams of the kinder, gentler things in life,
Yet he is content to have them only if the Lord wishes it so
Accepting his place in this world, regardless of any material assets
He walks down the path, two pennies in his pocket jingling and jangling around
One he is saving for the wishing well, and the other he's carried as a reminder
That money is a symbol of all the evil in this mortal world,
The lust for what one cannot have is a driving force behind much violence and villainy
The dreamer knows that money cannot buy him any of the things he thought he needed
That all of his treasures come from the Lord, Content is he with whatever the Lord provides
This thought takes him out of his morning fog, and he skips along humming an unfamiliar tune.

Waiting

Its been a while since he remembers how it felt
Its been ages since he knew what he was searching for
Out here in the solidarity of the open sky, he writes his song
His emotions move to the beat of the sound, he knows not the rhythm
He asks freely of his Maker to make some things go away
Like the burning hole in his heart on this all too cloudy day
He knows not all of the things he asks for, should they come to pass
All of the secrets he held in his pocket, he casts them into the street
No good were they anyway, just memories from things he crushed away
Old days are better left forgotten, yet sometimes his memory returns
He stops to wonder when he is through paying for his past
The way he lived begged to be forgotten, yet some scars hold true with time
He wants to dance like David, screaming Hallelujah, 'Let me be free'
For he's slept in his bed alone, and pays the ransom of his choices still
All the pictures he's taken of the minds eye, They stay fresh with him
Keeping him captive when other men are free, As he falls to his knees
He is hallowed by the sound of silence as he listens for the Lord
He knows not how long he must wait, and yet there is comfort in his surrender
To wait upon the Almighty requires the greatest patience the world has known
To trust infinitely in things he cannot quite understand, Yet he refuses to leave
For gone so long down other roads that his feet are bare, His heart is empty
For God so loved him, that he was given another beginning
When everyone else had left,  He knew who would catch him
There is safety in his thoughts and actions today
Glue that keeps him together when the day is long
One must wonder how his faith became strong
Why it no longer blows at the sight of the wind
Much as all the other things he let go upon this journey
Things he gave up in search of vindication
He remembers that he is searching for the truth of all things
And life became good from him that day
Today's worries too, passed like the wind

Rumbling and Rambling Upon a Road Somewhere

Insecurities spouting from the pen threaten his will
When everything fits into place, the feeling is surreal
Antidotes for the dreaming heart lie upon a distant shore
One not reached by boat, nor of any use is an ore
A dreamer's hat has many stories yet to spell
Deep within his heart lie endless sagas of which to tell
One he's heard is of that fantasy so far away
Where the ocean is still a deep endless blue
And troubles don't quite exist in the light of day
The sweetest taste is that of the morning dew
He knows he has not been there, yet he yearns it so
He hasn't written the path that yet brings it to life
Building up the courage to leap where lovers go
He would have such a muse if he'd just take a wife
But broken his heart was, Left torn all about the ground
And though glue from heaven has mended it rightly in place
He must not make haste to give it away to another liar
One whose heart that doesn't burn as his does with great fire
Will never make a muse to write the great story of their life
About flying and falling and trusting in God above
About all of the little things and nothing at all
He sleeps at night with his head tucked under his hearth
Knowing that all of his imagination lay wasted if not put out in pen
That intentions amount to pennies or less when talked about in vain
He spins his dreamer's wheels towards the next brightest star
He heard about love in a movie, but he has never quite made it that far
The end you see is further away  than you think
Waking up to the beginning again confuses the whole damn plot
He grew tired of rhyming and decided just to write
So long it took him to realize these simple truths
And that today's success would frame tomorrow's air

The First Mention

Yesterday exists only in narrow windows of the brain
It can no longer be touched by the tangible and living
Nothing mortals have achieved will revisit it's somber departure
Though many chase its elusiveness quite maddenly so
'What if' is a meaningless aspect upon which to ponder
Everything in this life is but momentary, raptured in an instant
Touching Today, Holding it for as long as time will allow
Knowing inside that this too will be taken away just as quickly
Holding on to the lives that matter in the realm of one's existence
Letting the one's for love know just how much these moments mean
When she walks through that door, letting her know before she leaves
She is the one all the yesterdays foretold about in their ending songs
To see her in evening's embrace and frigid breeze was to know peace
Tomorrow she too could be gone, Knowing what she meant could mean everything
Endless whispering upon the callous brain, Endless turning upon a hamster's wheel
Writing these things for the world to see, Only those who matter will understand
Brevity of the present is all but assured. Few things in life can slow the blur down
Two months into the year already passed, Yet promising months lie still ahead
Forbidding the anticipation of it all, Living right here, taking this breath as it were the last
Exhaling gently the revelations of recent days, Closing eyes meant for dreaming
Sleep comes to all those good children of the Lord, Restful and content are they of faith

Morning Truths

Some blank stare across the morning sky
Wishing he could run away and leave it all behind
An epiphany of all things he cannot find
Or those things he left behind on the broken road
Though his heart is full of faith and hope
The tangible threads all dreams are made of
He sometimes wonders what it all means
Intentions he used to keep upon his shelf
They never saw the light of day
Never did he know he would wake up this way
Burning for something greater than where he has been
How long must he play the dreamers song?
How many Fall leaves must rest on the ground at his feet
Spinning a thread full of hope and wonder
To watch it unwind with out any adieu
He chokes on the ashes of his past
The torched path he left in his wake
He wishes he could tell her what he sees in her
Would it make a difference anyway?
Would she see that their distance has made him insane?
All the others who were with him pale in comparison
For the one he has never had, has captivated all of his dreams
Penning it to paper eases his addled brain
Somedays he writes of his new found hope
Yet others resort to the true nature of all things
He has no fear of what others may think
To his own heart is he solemnly true
Laugh and caw at the dreamer if you will
His heart does not hear your jeers and hate
He keeps his melody alive in his heart
Yet this morning it plays a melancholy tune
The ocean and the tide bring him a rhythm
That rhythm he pens into a song
That song is the one he sings about her
And of life, and dreams, and everything
He writes for all those who dare not dream for themselves
He writes for the ones who have lost their way
Somewhere strewn across that broken road
May they wind up home again

More

More than just dreams, Facts upon the wall
Triumphs of the dreamer that dreamt it all
Knowing me has not brought you too far
All of my feelings I keep in this jar
My machinations can't escape with mere ink
Nothing I write can let you feel what I think
I am the one who went looking for more
More than I found outside of your door
I am the truth you would rather not abide
All of my thoughts, they seldom coincide
I'll say things you would rather not hear
Yet saying them makes everything clear
Wasted time amongst so much more
I'm leaving it here on this earthly floor
Tears I cried were not even wet
Though they rest upon my soul and I let
How I wonder through this life is a mystery
Yet I refuse to be haunted by my own history
There is more at the other side of it all
I've but tasted the grapes in the fall
See what I have seen with these eyes
And you too will believe in a prize
That no longer returns to hallow places
Though I cannot erase all the traces
So I spent a lifetime looking for more
But more turned out to be too much to ask for

Cupid's Reach

Walk swiftly past the confusion
For the heart knows no bounds
A dreamer's heart is anxious
Many times deflated and stomped
Today I give my hopes and dreams to God
For trusting in Him has never made me hurt
He knows the desires of the heart
He already knows where I will fall
He works to remove the scars left on the surface
He rubs out the ones deep within
My expectations always landed me in the most sorted of places
My company kept watch from their liars' chairs
The mistakes I made with my beating heart
They are well documented upon a scroll
The travesties of unrest I have lead my heart to
They no longer have purpose and meaning here
For now I walk on the cloud of peace
I was ransomed by a Divine Love
My heart has but one place in this mortal world
It may have yet to touch its destination
Yet God has always known where it would land
She is out there waiting for my dreamer's heart
Maybe I have not yet seen her
Perhaps we are already friends
I wait upon the Lord in these matters
I stay still in this life of mine
I gave up every way of knowing I had
For it all led me down a lesser road
Standing just outside of Cupid's reach
Lest he lead me astray again
Carry on now lonesome dreamer
Your meeting with Juliet is yet at hand

The Aftermath of Dreams

All is irrelevant after waking up again, Grasping uselessly at fleeting figures
The visions and memories must remain in the seamless void of sleep
They cannot follow into the waking world, yet their revelations remain
Healing some dreams can be, Closure found to long lost things
Every piece of a jagged puzzle brought together whole
The ones that used to keep me numb, I erased them so
No longer needed are my worry, pain, and woe

Memories not yet made, linger in the passage of sleep
People not yet connected by time, Dangling ends of a larger plan
These are the things I keep in the morning after
My hopes and dreams aligned to singular thoughts
One in particular that never leaves, but remains sweet and innocent
These things I keep to myself, For a better time, in a better place
I pray that God hasn't forgotten about my dreams, I know he knows my heart
In the aftermath of it all, I sit here real still, Listening to the silence before I start

The Perpetual Light and the Elusiveness of All Things

It began with darkness and the absence of sound
No knowledge of how I wound up in such a sorted place
If there were warnings, I must have raced past them years earlier
I awoke to it, Its absence of light became my kindred spirit
I thrived there, and broken dreams were my muse
Yet in that place that knew no sounds, A boy cried out
Fear and pain lived in his pupils, he had yet to cede his dreams
Two voices in one head complicated so many things
One playing roulette with the devil, bent on ending it all
The other fighting to escape the dying dreams locked inside a hurting soul
Yet the light returned in those final days, briefly before the end
Really it had never left you see, for its glow is perpetual among other things
One cannot see its luminescence when clouded in endless shadows
Just as one cannot expect to see the Sun in the dead of night
Yet its existence is proven to mortal man, if only he would believe it so
Looking forward with the wonder of an endless child
For The Almighty God has seen to it so
The sunlight of my spirit warms my green eyes for the world to see
Life is quite a different matter today, Not as elusive as it used to be

In a Moment

What constitutes a moment, is little more than seconds of an earthly clock
A memory captured in an instant, and gone before the morning dew leaves the ground
So few are these precious gems of our lives, that few recognize them at all
Time does not come to a halt for any mortal, Nor does it slow
Yet in these moments, time seems to soften and bend
For just a millisecond can you almost feel the slowness and wholeness of it all
Grab these moments and hold them tightly to your heart
For life's blur will quickly resume, leaving you to where you came from
I know of these things, I have missed quite a few myself
Elusive are they when your head is on upside down
I have since stilled my anxious beating heart
While I cannot slow the hands of the clock, I can soften them some
To not be in such a haste, makes the days a little longer
To enjoy each moment, blurs away the apathy
Rejoice that these days are here, They may be the best you ever see
For we know not what lies up ahead, nor should we be in a hurry to get there
What constitutes a moment is letting go of everything I know
Trusting that this moment in time is where I need to be
For the next one might not be just as sweet
Maybe I'll not even get there you know
That much is not guaranteed to me
One thing I do know for sure amongst other things
That all of these moments are free

Things I Now Know

The words began from this pen long ago
I knew there were things I must write
Things that needed to escape my soul
I could not keep it all inside
That is unfair to you, a great injustice to me
All of the travels I took are real
All roads that brought me here still exist
Yet I don't retrace those steps today
They lead me to places of a lesser me
I began this story back when the world was but new
Before memories skewed the things I would say
When life was but an ocean of all the things I had not seen
Back when Summer lasted forever, Back before I even lost myself
Losing and Finding on the road that leads us here
All the material things that really meant nothing at all
Caught up were we in the infinite madness of everything
Not looking at where we would land
Here now that I found myself, I sing to you my sweetest song
May I remember what I came here for,
May I write until the story is done
Much brighter now than days from that other life
No more pieces and broken objects scattered about the ground
Blown away with the parting wind, The closet cleaned anew
I start this journey without much sound, but speak of miracles I have seen
Standing sideways with both eyes open, lest I fall into the depths again
Don't be caught like I was, Swallowed by apathy and time
Cast down foolish things, Find your door
Become all that you came for

Disclaimer

I'm not like you, Not like any of you at all
The road I took to get here, I would not wish on anyone
Yet that road led me to the sweetest release I have every known
All the paths I took to get here, All the doors I slammed shut in my apathetic blur
They represent everything that makes me who I am today
Why I had to walk the broken road, Why I had to get tired of falling down
These are not answers I have, but surely God knows why
It took every ounce of pain I've endured for me to be set free
Though my vindication speaks volumes for my dreamer's heart
I had the best of intentions, Yet failed at them all
I felt I was a good man all along, yet knew nothing of what that meant
I walked the path of least resistance, It took me straight to the gates of Hell
Arduous my climb came from the darkest moments of my existence
I am standing here today only because my Lord saw fit to rescue me
He took me from that place that knows no sound
Now upon this new path I've been walking many miles
I write and live for Him, I owe Him the sweetest of everything
As I rise again this morning, Everything comes clear to my endless heart inside
I spent a whole lifetime running, I think its time I just stood still
Find your greater purpose if you can, My own has served me well

At Winter's End

The bite of winter, reaching its climax in the closing months
In recent days the dreamer has been walking in place
Clearing out past ways of thought, erasing methods that no longer worked
For years, the insanity of his persistence left him perpetually cold
Winter lived in his soul year round, keeping his dreams on ice
Breaking the cycle of his once foolish whims, Realizing that he was wrong all along
Answers to questions he never asked, whisk at his dirty, trodden feet
Keys to doors he never opened are secure in the pockets of his faded jean
A new path set before him, for he witnessed the change in the landscape
Mountains that led into yonder valley, now peaked into little more than small basins
Closing his eyes, he feels great warmth on even this frigid day
His path is lit in a blaze of  triumph, no mere mortal stands in its way
Realizing he's written all these journals in third, he laughs just a little
He has spoken of himself as if someone else was writing his story
Maybe in a way, someone was, a different soul spoke with a pen
A man that was blinded by things he could not see
The dreamer reached up and touched his tired face
He felt the mask of time, the one he put there to hide from the world
He took it off and cast it to the ground, It shattered with great sound
Closing up his sack, he started walking, never looking down at the broken false face
The last story told in this endless journal, More likely the first of the new.......ED

An Epiphany of Sorts

Harsh words do not hurt him, He's heard them all before
This path he's come to walk alone, Expecting his place in the world
Those things he leaves lying on the ground, They are but memories of a fool
There's something greater burning inside those brown-green eyes
A spark in the dead of night, A light when the world is shrouded in dusk
He keeps his greatest mysteries locked inside, For the ones he's shared are taken away
To know him is to question the little things, His complexity is unnerving, yet his motives plain
He cast away his former self, but a shell of a once ugly soul
He repent those things that made him a stranger, Gave up all that was already lost
The memories he's forced to keep, oh he keeps them well
The moments in time he would rather erase, are his markers of mortality
They keep him real, They keep him in the here and now, Lest he time-walk into the past
For there the water's deep, The pain of many yesterdays awaiting rebirth
So when  you see him, he smiles, He can hear the song in his heart
It's taken a lifetime for him to do so, Yet he knows he must carry on
The song inside must be shared with many, lest it go unheard by even himself
The gifts he's been given, he must give away, share them with a waiting world
Selfish desire leads down a path he would not follow, though he was once its slave
He springs forward into the open and begins to sing his song, He speaks of sweet redemption
All these years he walked, he did not know it so, Yet there are forests for the trees
All planted by the hand of God, For the dreamer and the ones that he must show

Waking Up Refreshed and the Reality of It All

Stirring in the pre-morning dew are crickets ending their incessant singing
Time has come for them to burrow once more as daybreak awaits
Lying in the field where he communed with his Lord, is the Dreamer
Still and quiet upon the grass where he gave up his will in search for something more
Opening of his eyes reveals a freshness to their brown-green glow, a spark unseen since childhood
To recapture his innocence, he will surely not accomplish, For unknowing does not exist
The importance of what he has learned and felt throughout this life will bide for his eternity
Reality creeps upon him, and he is sure of his place once more
False expectations nearly cost him everything, Giving endlessly of his heart cost him more
His God ransomed his foolishness, called him for home once yet this past day
For the Man in the Clouds is seemingly all-knowing, the Dreamer wonders how he does it so
Promises from the Dreamer were flowing in the wind, Surely he would be true to his word
Loving his God above all things, For the material desires had wrecked his glad heart
Broken stride had he for those he loved, Gave a piece of his soul, without thought to himself
Unselfish as it seemed, Self was full about in the desire to break his lone existence
For the Dreamer once wanted more than he could have, Eclipsed his soul at such a price
To give it all up now in search of the Way, Oh what a transformation did he see
The air entered his lungs with such sweet release, the sun began its rise once more
He had admitted defeat, completely upon his knees, for he knew no longer how to live
Yet he was given much more than all his wanting, when he was freed from his liar's chains
Not taken though were his lover's heart, nor his dreamer's spirit
Not taken were any of the things that made him Dream, He was simply shown another how
To Dream on in search of his heart's purest desires, To make the Man proud
He was still on a path of sorts, just not his own tired, broken road, but one filled with hope
That he bring faith to those who would have it, and be an friend indeed
To finish what he started all those years ago, When he promised himself to succeed
To higher mountains, To brighter rainbows, and those that he would meet there
To share himself with those of kindred spirit, and those that would hurt him no more
He walked the path of a new man that day, though not a pious and arrogant one
He was still the same soft and gentle man, For those things could not be taken with time
The dreamer lives in all of those worlds, yet knows his endless place in this one

Soul Searching upon the Path

Dust kicked upon the same tired path, his beating heart heavy and anxious
Long has it been, that he contemplated the meaning of these things
The meaning of every breath, every moment, good or bad
Faith he had held on to despite all his fears, over the last many days
Yet recently his walk wasn't the same, there was a proverbial gait to his step
Something was missing, The absence of the voice he had followed out of the darkness
Though he was sure it hadn't silenced, Rather the voices inside had deafened him so
Weary from falling down, back swollen from the luggage he has kept
Eyes burning from walking the wrong way, lost on a perfectly clear day
Just then, he stopped, closing his lids, he listened intently
He hit his knees in that wide open field, nothing surrounding except silence and blue sky
He called out to his God, the Man in the Clouds, He called out with all his earthly might
He felt a calmness, and he found that he was finally ready to let it all go
From this moment he would give everything in search of the Way
This moment when all others had failed, It was now or never
No turning back, the voices in his head had ravaged his once sound mind
New life and a new beginning, when all other things have failed
He collapsed in the soft grass and lay still, listening to the patter of his beating heart
No longer would he care about what couldn't be fixed, only on what he could mend
Some time swept by, A cool breeze poured over the majestic field
To feel like small children on those ancient sunny summer days
To run through the field, never slowing down, cool grass brushing his refreshed feet
What he had been searching for had been here all along, he had refused to remain still

Sleep came as his heart slowed, For once in forever he slept without dream

The Truth about Falling and Other Things

Whispers dance upon the hollow trees of the wood he passes
Nymphs and Tree folk gathered around in the moonlight
Much is spoken about a love greater than in all his dreams
One that doesn't run cold in the chill of night, but grows
Masquerading as such, many have came to pass by his heart
For he knows they are but false, the whispers tell him so
The Nymphs assure him he has not yet fallen, only he has thought so
When the bitterness of a thousand winters cannot break bonds
When every moment is like hearing the angels sigh
When the songs of two hearts create life's Greatest Symphony
Then will it have come to pass, the Greatest he has ever known

The Man in the Clouds has made it so, His blood, sweat, and tears gave us everything
This life rich with idle bliss, To just take a moment and be still
Life is more than the spinning of wheels, and all this shall pass before forever
Yet he had to learn to love himself, lest he always fall prey to those who hurt him
He remembered who he was not long ago, found his heart beating in the dead of snow
Picked it up quickly and brushed it off, Self worth comes from within, no matter anything
Falling is similar to flying, both involve faith above all things, belief in something more
This life is rich in each moment, let them not be wasted mourning false pride
The nymphs have a song they sing about falling, It echoes through a lover's heart
Without a doubt you will know when she comes, for someone like her has never been here before
Rest content in the moonlight endless dreamer, all dreams are yet in sight.......ED

The Sound of the Wind

The roaring gale sweeps across time and space
Its infinite sadness is heard audibly and distinct
Music can be drowned by its sheer force
Its wintry cry demands to be heard across the plains
A young man coming up the path is prepared for its madness
For he too may be mad inside, yet not in brutal anger
The one who dreams incessantly, surely without end
He hears the wind call his name as he drudges his path this morn
He hears all the names the gale would mention
Some of them from years past, Others from just yesterday
Warbling out notes to break the dreamer's spirit
Its wintry blast must beckon from the Ancient One
Beelzebub would sow confusion upon any and all hearts
Unshaken by mere tricks of nature, the dreamer moves on
Wrapping his face in the cloth of a Lamb, he fights the biting sting
Mad with determination some would say, the heart of a lion
To hear and ignore the callous questions of the wind takes gall
For its shrieking sound can deafen even the insane
Ripping sand from the path, it blasts upon the man's face
He blinks without cringe, does not miss a step
Many days since he's seen the Sun, surely it comes soon on the horizon
This morning's walk has just began

Interlude IV-- Survival of a Soul

Over all the miles, Walking through all the pain that life can bring to bear
He never complains, he just moves on swiftly , his dreams, they stay intact,
Many are there that conjured to change his mind, painted him a picture of a wintry world
Death, Betrayal, Substance, Confusion are all names in the same
Orchestrated by the Dark One, they spin their webs to tear away a soul
Undeterred by these things, the dreamer marches on, Fights the good fight without fail
He leaves a trail of broken memories and tears in his wake as he moves along
Yet he dreams new dreams to replace the ones that die in the sands of time
Somewhere in this world, one touched by the hand of God, created just for him
Someone to wipe his dusty brow, and quiet his ageless beating heart
Yet the dreamer knows he must not desire such things too strongly
He must walk the endless path to his destination, completing his life work
When He who made him is satisfied the dreamer has carried himself
Then the fruit of the path will show as such, Nothing before, nor after
These riddles the dreamer keeps locked away inside
He's been dreaming for several days, awake upon the path
May tomorrow he open up his eyes, and breath in the here and now
The past and future are perilous, if not living in the present
The dreamer's heart goes easy now, slows down a thump or two
He's found peace of mind inside his soul, May others find it as well
He steps out of his clouded dream, thrusting himself into the world built anew

Interlude III- The Absence of Dreams

He often ponders how he became the Dreamer, for so many around him do not dream at all
Without dreams everything seems a little gray, a morbid landscape of etched reality
He would pray for those ones, who didn't dream, that their waking memories are filled with hope
He knows not who they are, Not that it matters much to him
All substance in life is mirrored in the reflections of a dream
One without hope is clouded without light
Groping around in yonder darkness looking for their song
Though the dreams he has are not always fruited, He believes in them, each one the same
For without them, he would not exist, Would have perished long ago in his squalid former existence
It was the dreams that kept him alive back then, They kept his heart together, beating all the same
He knows now that dreaming is just part of his life course, More is required still
To inspire those without dreams, that they may find their song, to give them dreams to keep
This is but an endless task, Yet one he chose to take-----ED