Like an acrobat at the mercy of his skillful balance, the dreamer walks barefoot across the clouds.When the night falls, and the stars rise, he opens his arms, and he laughs, laughs, laughs to let every light feel him.
He’s here!
And he stretches to snatch the colors that appeal to him.
He’ll show everyone at home, the cynics with their heels in the grass, that up close the stars shine greens and blues, purples and reds, and every jeweled hue in between. But not the edge nor the tips of his extended fingers can even dip the foggy glow surrounding each spark.
When sweat spills from his brow and his arm and his chin, he wonders if each drop will reach the earth, marking a temporary bruise on the pavement that will fade without notice when the dawn arrives.
He has to leap if he wants those stars.
But once he has the glittering prize in his grasp, where will he land? That’s not his question when he jumps, though, because dreamers don’t ask such things once they decide they will always figure every problem out.
**Happy Birthday, Nathan**
Read last week's Friday Figment:
Or
Photo attribution: By Gilles Tran & Jaime Vives Piqueres (http://www.oyonale.com/iss.php) [CC-BY-2.5 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5)], via Wikimedia Commons
you're right- this picture is great! But so is the writing that goes with it! I like the idea of jewel tones stars
ReplyDelete