Treasure Island

Cory Ruda

(7/31/91)

Human Dream


A father playing with his son, making
a mother smile while she sifts through clothes.
The child needs a haircut, but couldn't
spare a thought more. He'll have one Friday.
This is the American Dream.
Wrong.
This is the Human Dream, to radiate love for
one another in the care and sanctity of
a warm sun, a roof over ones head,
food, drink, joy.
This is the Human Dream, and,
one day,
all mankind will join hands and hearts.
Then, and only then, will it become
the Human Condition.

Submitted: Friday, October 04, 2013
Edited: Saturday, October 05, 2013

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

A few days ago in a clothing store, I watched for at least ten minutes while a father played with his son, fake fighting and laughing and picking him up. The smile on the boys face was infectious, and their bond was truly beautiful.

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