Beautiful Dreamer

Beautiful Dreamer

If I could but have your eyes to see the rainbow

Lead to a pot of gold

No limericks sold

With shamrock or sham

From tricky treacherous leprechauns

With want to fill their hands

Beautiful Dreamer

If I could but have your ears

To hear the music of the world

From hilltop to mountain side

Sing your magnificent hymns

Of freedom

Of equality

Of faith

Of justice

Oh Beautiful dreamer

If I could but have your voice

To create remembrance

To create a choice

To create of sound mind

In each person amongst us

Regardless of creed and credo

Humanities’ soul

Not the wretched one

That seeks self-fulfilling prophecy

With me-isms in this me-centric world

Beyond the point they can see no one else

In the mirror

When they look at themselves

Oh Beautiful Dreamer

If I could but have your hands

To hold onto the brevity of man

Who doesn’t realize

That all in his likeness

Regardless of spiritual belief,

Regardless of attraction,

Regardless of culture,

Regardless of flesh,

That all blood is red,

Do we not labor with the same struggles?

Do we not rejoice in the same exhilarating joys?

Is our experience

-The human experience

Not the same?

Do we not have the same reactions?

Must we all be defined by the insane state of mind

That confines us to a particular equation that doesn’t equal up to

The majority point of view?

Since when am I defined by a people

When my experiences grant me an alternative point of view

You don’t know me

I don’t know you

Oh Beautiful, beautiful dreamer

Please give me your heart

So I can start to feel

Whatever warped, dreamlike state

You were submerged in

Because I’ve been high

And haven’t attained the highest high

To believe

Your Oh so Beautiful Dream

Oh Most Beautiful Dreamer

Please give me your soul

So I can begin to unfurl even my belief in you

Because to me

You were a brief truth

Who showed a point-of-view

The world will never be ready for

Never accept

Always circumvent

Because sometimes Dreams are so Beautiful

They evade us

Like a mirage in the desert

Just too good to be true I suppose

That’s what dreams consist of

No more than a thought

An image, an idea

And quite frankly

I’d have to say my imagination is more real

Than the Beautiful Dream

Oh so Beautiful Dreamer

You deceptively conned our minds with

So long ago

But I don’t and won’t hold it against you

Sometimes, it’s best to sleep

And awake from Dreams so Beautiful

And remember

As a temporary distraction

To the nightmares of our realities…

But I know for one, I’m free at last…

“…If America is to be a great nation, this must become true.” ~MLK, Jr.