Lil Ol' Boy

My old boy
Retired into decision
Of dreaming in the head
Precisely

My old boy
Swimming in a distant thought
Swung back and forth
From me

My old boy
He likes to fight
When no one's around
His left fights right

My old boy
My very own boy
After my heart
And how

My old boy
My very own boy
Warring with himself
In love

My old boy
My very own boy
Drowning everyday
Inside

My old boy
He says to me
I love the sounds you make
And sleeps

My old boy
My very own boy
Keeps running away
From what we could be

Love less, my dear
Dream less
Don't try to hide
And fail miserably

Love is what you'll let it be.

Wait Until Dark

Our dreams float dimly illumined like stars, like folded fireflies, like lighthouse beams. Step after blind step we trail after the light at the end of the tunnel following the whiff of warm trains wafting along on wintry nights. Our soft ambitions lull us into these twilight dreams that lie with us through haze and drifting sleep. Do we want to reach the end of the tunnel, or catch that train, or touch that shore? Would we not rather lose ourselves in embers than play with fire? The light on that other dreamy end would blind us. The candles we light are neither for burning nor for heat. The torches we light are for others to find the way. Our own light would blind us, so we look away. Dreams should remain dreams that flit in and out of drifting sleep. So dream away, sons and daughters of my own homespun cloth. Let not the sun wake you, it is but noon yet.