Pink Lady

We all get moments in the Sun

Moments of realization of who we are and who we are not

We put to work our hands at a dream we believe will last a life time ....

Yet feel defeated when it becomes a reflection of what we once were .

Then laugh once we see it as a part of our whole.

We wonder about our ages, for this and that.

When to conceive, when to live large, or take it easy.

But to put a limit on something like that seems so silly. Why?

If only we could shift ourselves so that our worth gravitated loudly enough for all time to stop.

Truly then we'd travel wherever we wanted. Every minute to us, a year to another.

They say it's intention

They say it's vibration

But what if there wasn't a word for it?

What if it just was?

Time turns the wheel we spin and dance to

An illusionary mirror of space.

The real mechanics the stars

The wheel our eyes

Our nervous system the engine of existence.

They say dreamers have their heads in the clouds but do they really?

When everything in it of itself is laid out so perfectly.

Couldn't the dreamer perhaps be the navigator?

The means of ones ship set sail on the vast oceans of infinite possibilities.

Perhaps that dreamer is you

Perhaps it is me.

Whomever it is to be

Let it.

~ FireBird

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