Dusty Visions Poem by bob barci

In the dusty corridors of my mind
are visions of someone else's dreams.
An iridescent moon
shining down from a velvet sky.
Old poems coming back to life.
Praising God for a miracle He's performed.
Beneath the dust
are visions of my own.
Weekly train rides to the city.
Finding the words for something to say.
Words that remain unspoken.
Little occurrences in the wee hours of the morning.
Birthday greetings to certain friends.
These visions have been gathering dust.
Someone, besides myself, needs to breathe
new life into them.
A new life from what they envision.
The dust piles higher
until someone's vision
sweeps it away.