December Poem by Jeri Martindale

December



Waking from my field of unknown dreams, I flew farther away from all, farther than most have seen, but once again it takes me back to my life of love and clouds of emotions. They float on by like an endless wave of pure morality. Making me once again believe that I will always be a dreamer.

No one can take me away from these clouds or the feeling I get once I arrive at my peek of exstacy. All time is made of love, hate, fear, pain, and confusion. I wish that I could do all the things in my small head; maybe one time they will be fullfilled. Following what one might call a path of life, I can not see exactly what lays ahead of me, and so in fear I stay.

If once I step of the course it seems I can live free, not trapped. Everytime I slip away, always something chases me back to the most distant thing one could find, Reality. It's cold, dark, and lonely, just like an old play thing. For once I wish to pass on by, and realize this is what I am missing. Why pass my own life? Reality is to hard to comprehend and that is why I prefer to fly with the wind.

Now I am lying here alone in someone else's bed, thinking about the life always in my head. Does my heart feel that it may folow this time, for once feel the aliveness and preciousnes this time? I must not get too excited; it will not last quite as long as I had hoped. This time it will be different from all others; it will fly higher and faster away from me, but for all the love in the world, I would stop it before it even began its endless possibilities.

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