A Lost Idea - Poem by Orlando Belo
Last night I had a dream that I was a lost idea,
being carried in the thoughts of a bird.
We soared above the snow-capped mountains,
to where a sound has never been heard.
Soaring ever higher we had left the day,
but below us we could still see the light.
I wondered what I was doing here as an idea,
and what was the purpose of this bird’s flight.
As we struggled in the turbulent high winds,
the bird’s thoughts couldn’t hold on to me.
I was captured by the streams of chaotic gusts,
forever held by the winds of eternity.
To countless galaxies I was carried,
back and forth to the past and beyond.
The tiring wind became a lazy breeze,
which released me from its bond.
A whispering free spirit took hold of me,
who knew well its place in space and time.
In its thoughts, it carried me for many years,
until we arrived at a place sublime.
From here the free spirit helped me catch a ride,
on someone’s knowledgeable thought train,
but alas I had grown too old to be of any use,
so here in the atmosphere I remain.
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