Shayla App [holding your dream in the palm of your hand]
Younger our dreams, our hopes were right there in front of us.
As our breath on a cold, still January morning hanging silently in reach.
Charging up the hill without hesitation, fearless, recklessly chasing the top.
Always seeing ourselves in the top spot, never second or third.
Our dreams as if a kite on a taut thin string, feeling the pull.
If we let loose our grip we become part of the great social injustice of ‘settling’ our dreams fluttering down.
Our dreams used to consume us, they were us!
Lately, things are somehow different; life forever getting in the way.
But, what of that dream?
You know, that special one we kept down in the quiet of our souls, the one we dared but whisper.
The one we shall forever carry a corner of hope till sliding in sideways at the last second to our grave.
But life slowly grinds our dreams away, us away, making a joke of our promises.
“Hold on!” we quietly scream. “If it were so easy we would have gotten it done.”
Maybe we just didn’t quite know how; how to do it, how to make it all fit.
Now we carefully define and refine our reasons for letting go.
I say to you this, “I don’t believe it and I never will.”
But, it really doesn’t matter what I believe, does it.
It only matters what you believe. And if we don’t think you can do it, you won’t.
Now very softly I say to you this, if you let go of that dream of your’s __ Oh, it will get done alright, but unfortunately, by someone else!
They will be living your dreams, wearing your smiles as the little yellow butterflies swoop, then glide. The best of us was always our hopes and dreams.