Dreams of the Future

Dreams of the Future

I keep my dreams
Like a precious porcelain figurine,
Encased behind glass walls,
Protected in their delicacy.

Each night
I take them out,
And wave a feathered dust wand
To betray the day's adversity.

I hold my dreams close,
Like a child's favorite stuffed animal,
Giving security when fear
Tramples man's best-laid plans.

I see my dreams
In my head, colorful book jackets,
Mounds of matte material
Born of my hand and head.

My dreams are like a plant,
Alive, producing oxygen,
Its own chemical process,
Begetting chants of life renewed.

Only in even' time,
The darkness of night
Allows me to parade
Like some Lady Godiva,
Gone tactilely mad.

Then I put my dreams
Back on the shelf,
Apart from apathy,
Apart from destruction,
Safely waiting
Their day of fulfillment.