Wild as the ocean, free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.

Wild as the ocean. Free as a mountain sitting motionless. Soft as a storm blooming in full.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Dream or Die

We are but dreamers, holding out for what we want.  Starving in our lust for perfection of being.  Passing on just enough to get by....
Stealing pieces of our soul to feed our flesh when there is no more food to fill our bellies.
We say if...we can find the right...if we can just,
hold out for the right thing, hold out for the right job, hold out for the right lover...and so on.
Everything will come together and be just right.
Because we believe we can.
We believe we deserve better than to simply toil the long day,
to create blood for another day to toil another long day for this life. 
That very idea strangles at bare mention the ability to breathe full breaths at times.
Not out of vanity or delusion but out of hope.
Some might say spoiled or arrogant, deluded or lazy. 
But in pursuit of the dream, we simply trudge on holding the hope tightly against our hearts that some day it will bear fruit and flourish.  A triumph of future design, a winning against the odds, against ordinary.
Rising up and out of the mire of ourselves into the ether and into form.
Dreams are what keep us alive.
Perhaps we haven't lost enough to want to simply survive anymore?
Or perhaps we know that if don't feed our souls the flesh of what it desires most, hope and the fantasy of what could be,  it won't matter how grand the design, how large the house or how full the bank. Enough will never be enough.
Settling for enough won't be.  It will not satisfy the larger scheme.
If we don't hold out, and stay on hoping and dreaming....then we will have lost everything anyways ending up as empty vessels taking up space from others to bloom.

©3/3/11 Written with photo by Danya Mosgofian

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