I think I am beyond dreams - I have left it too late;
In fact I'm not sure I ever had any - I was too busy dealing with life
As it was.
So when do dreams drift from the future into the past?
When do they go from anticipated plans
To unfulfilled regrets?
Is there a fork in the Road of Life,
Or merely a boundary - a line across the road?
And when is it we realise that plans or dreams
Involving physical endeavour
Are no longer possible?
Time is relentless - it does not wait for dreams;
Dreams take time to formulate
And even more time to fulfil
And if we dwell, we fall defeated
Along the edges of Time's road;
We find the dreams we let pass by
Are gone, beyond recall,
Transformed from dreams into regrets.
And yet, perhaps there is still time,
Perhaps the road is not yet barred
Perhaps there is another way, a side-road
Deviating from the road we thought
Was ours to tread
Inexorably beyond our hopes and dreams
Unto its end.
Another road? -perhaps.
Another dream?
Perhaps it has not ended yet.
We may yet find that other road;
And overcome the ravages of Time
And have our long-held dreams
Fulfilled, and find new dreams
And have our victory.
It is not over yet.
I am reading Chance by Andrew Rule and came upon your story. I Googled you to find out more, not knowing you were also a poet.
If dreams were fulfilled we would not be satisfied. All dreams are illusory or they would not be dreams.+++10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beyond Dreams is an evocative and wonderful poem. Especially for a 74 year old.