I dream of everything
That holds me back
Is fading
Into the great nothingness
From whence it came.
I dream of the limitations
And fears that others
Placed around me
In me have
Dissolved into
A past
That is no longer
A part of
The present life
I dream of
Living everyday.
I embrace my dreams
And give back
The world
Its fears of
And for me.
Like Oz
I am great
And Mighty,
An Imagineer
Crafting my future
Through visions
That are my
God given right
By design
And by the Divine.
Walt Disney
Is my patron Saint.
Please intercede
On my behalf,
To The Lord of
Lords,
And Host of
Hosts,
That the characters
In my head
Have the potential
To bring,
Light, Love
& joy,
The likes of
The world
Has yet to
Hope for,
Let alone dream.
Stan Lee
Is the Avatar
Of the Muse
Made manifest,
Showing us
How we can be
The heroes
We wish to see
In the world.
I dare to
Make the stories
George & Steven
Would drool over,
Because they
See their own
Characters reborn
& made new
In the sparkle
In my soul's story.
I dare to share
This hope,
These dreams
With a blank
Sheet of paper,
And infinite pixels,
Unnamed,
Only danced around.
In my secret dream,
You are all there,
Here,
With me…
Daring to make a world,
Where every building
Is made with the craftsmanship
Of eternal testament,
And the artistry
That dares
To make the angels
Jealous to live
In heaven on earth.
Here in my secret dream
We all know
What is done
To one is
Done to all,
So that no child
Ever goes hungry,
Every meal,
Lovingly prepared,
And consumed
With a reverence
For life.
This secret dream
Flows with
The ebb and flow
Of water that
Runs free
And clear,
Enough for all
Because we live
And breathe
The balance
Of living
In harmony
With our
Environment.
This place
Is like Gene's Dream,
Where religion
No longer divides us,
Because we know
How sacred
Humanity is as One
Than it ever was
Divided.
Spiritual
Interconnectedness
Is reality that
Is felt viscerally
Not argued
Intellectually.
Diversity of Culture,
Of expression
Through humanity's
Genetic spectrum,
Is no longer seen
As race or skin,
But the brush strokes
Of the Master
Artisan,
Who is incapable
Of Creating
One or another
Greater or lesser.
That each
Cog,
Human to animal,
Plant to mineral,
Has its Divine job,
As does every cell
In a body…
It is in Wholeness,
That all
Are made well,
Happy,
And are
A part of one
Great body,
Called
Earth.
For now
It is just a dream,
But I doubt,
It is only mine.
I can only
Hope,
It is
Ours.
