I walked tall through my field of dreams
enjoying imagining the possibilities.
When new flowers started to grow
I could feel my self let go of the old
that never made it through the storm.
I breathed in the fresh new breeze;
times of change, I might even be happy.
I watched longingly through my window
looking out at my field of dreams
soaking up the darkened rains,
we haven’t seen the sun for days
Yet while I’m waiting, a smile on my face
Could it be we’ve found better ways
to dream again and behold the pain?
It doesn’t take too long for while the windows all are open
A quicker storm spins through and tears the field apart.
You wonder what it was for once the damage has been done.
You wonder what you’ve gained by tearing up your heart.
I walked low through my field of dreams
laying all about in shambles.
Was it worth it for the joy,
though fleeting and now unraveled?
Is memory enough? Does it consummate the dream?
Was this the life I was made for?
A trail of scattered, broken dreams?
Maybe many months go by when finally I glance out at the field
New flowers have grown up and colors abundantly yield.
Tempt me as it may, I consider staying behind
But there’s just something there worth tasting and growing again
this dream I have inside.