Saturday, March 20, 2010

understanding me

writer pens into paper,
thoughts of wild berries
of unknown open roads
unfolding expressions
of experiences into living.

painter spreads the color,
o'er distant greens and hills
sketches every twinkle of an eye;
shades every wrinkle of time
into black and white of mind.

singer sings to glory;
plays to the rhythm
of birds chirping and
leaves rustling in wind
of life living within.

they all do what they dream
I dream too, yet I do
nothing of what I dream.
I am just a traveler;
I travel to distant horizons
walk past into falling skies.
I too write, paint and sing.
I do it all, all in my Dream.