Misguided Dreams

Dreams are like whispers, within our own mind
Making us smile, making us cry

In murmurs they come, and playfully joke
Deep in our pillows, moving like smoke

Hanging from ceilings, reveal who we are
Things that we see, things that we hide

Our deepest thoughts, our deepest fears
Revealed on a smile, revealed in a tear

Dreams of Picasso, the master in time
Painting ahead, while scorpions walked by

Entered Crete’s labyrinth, using a thread
Followed a minotaur, ’till ran out of breath

Drew all his outrage, in cubistic style
Mastering images, all through his life

A genius he was, a tormented soul
But did he reply, when God knocked his door?

Dreams you may have, of fortune and fame
But don’t let them take, your soul on the way!

“Keep your life free from the love of money, and be content with what you have.”

Hebrews 13:5

© copyright Carmen I. González

Revised 2012

(all rights reserved)

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