A dream is like a wandering cloud
adrift upon a breeze,
it has no goal or purpose, and
reality's a tease.

If faith has legs to walk on roofs
'twill always seize its goal;
but you will never soar on heights
while sitting on a pole.

Though most of us will miss that mark,
we hear a distant voice;
while thinking it's the zephyr's sound,
we never make faith's choice.

But have you heard that still small plea
that rustles in the trees?
It tirelessly talks to your heart...
a substance you can seize.

A dream remains confined to thought
a seed locked in a box.
Don't let it die, just grasp that dream --
'cause time's contained in clocks.

R.Owen 8/02/2018