Chasers & Wisps Poem by Kyle Jones

My friend once told me of a dream,
And despite the blasé tone,
Of her otherwise lyrical voice,
The words wedged between thoughts
And stung like a thorn of unprecedented confusion
Her recollections came to my ears as well as my heart,

Dreams and wishes were but tiny clouds, aloft on the wings of a moth,
People were all chasing them, but for those who took no interest,
Or lost their vision, the cloud grew dark and ultimately vanished
Into the throng of chasers and the wisps,

To myself I thought, in a state of complete self indulgence,
“Here I have bore witness to one of humanity’s deepest,
Yet obvious, secrets of existence, ”

I though for an age how best to put my revelation into words
And this simple rhyme is the most and the least my mind could create

-If aspirations flew for you to see
-On wings beating a mesmeric pace
-Present, daunting and caught easily
-Maybe more would be willing to chase