Dreams are much like flowers.
They germinate from planted seed --
invoking much in mental stimulations.
They bud, so beautiful they are,
so full of the wondrous novelty of birth.
They bloom, petals reaching out for all to see,
in all the glorious excitement of living,
as we contemplate their likelihood
of being part of our everyday reality.
But alas, they wilt, turning shades of brown,
as doubts, frustrations and fears loom
bringing us down, thoroughly disheartened,
to face the truth of what really is to be.
And then, they die -- cycled into something
so entirely different that another seed emerges
and the process begins anew to find the prize
inherent in fulfillment of a dream, or they are
simply just ... forgotten, never again to rise.
Buck the trend, find a dream and ride it to the sky.