Broken Wing

The Dream

A man awakens from his sleep
Where were his belongs that he did keep?
Was this the place that was in his dream?
The only place that would make him beam?
But how could this garden of brilliance be real?
Nothing could replace the way that he feels.
This place is his own that no one can take.
This garden has no feeling of hatred or ache.
The flowers, the trees, and the skies are majestic.
This place is not racial, judgmental or domestic.
Only good and pleasant things are welcome here.
No tears of jealousy, pain or guilt will come near.
Suddenly he felt cold hands on his face.
“Wake up my good husband,
a new day we embrace! ”
His mind and his thoughts were filled with confusion.
Could the garden be just an illusion?
No, no. This place has to be true.
This place of such beauty,
the garden that he knew.

Poem Submitted: Friday, July 20, 2007
Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 22, 2011

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Comments about The Dream by Broken Wing

  • Colin J...Colin J... (7/20/2007 2:45:00 PM)

    The garden is real. It's in all of us. Lovely poem.
    Colin J...

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