When I think of the fondest dreams I've ever had, they are always reveries of flight.
Above my childhood neighborhood I soar (even still!)
higher than the trees
atop the rooves of sleepy Pennsylvania
on my way to something better
Sometimes I wonder if the beauty, grandeur and ache of those very dreams
propelled me to big places like New York City
and Los Angeles...
were they perhaps the seeds of my flight?
Did the dreaming give courage to the waking girl?
I suppose I will never really know for sure
the way none of us can
about anything, really,
but I have a hunch that in those lucid, rapid-eye moments of wonder
there were kernels planted
Right in the heart of me.
Some seeds and wings of your very own,
in the METAL SHOP later today.