Dreams

Dreams are like the seasons,

Bitter and hostile

Sweet and endearing

Nostalgic and repressed

Some can be sweet,

The taste of an apple fresh from the tree,

The sting of a snowflake fallen on me

The heart of green leaves and new-fallen rain

Some can form habits of turning nightmarish

Garish and bright

Hateful and lachrymose

A thought never fully expressed

Shimmering in now-frozen waters

Where once fish swam and birds drank

The thoughts find hope,

To blossom- to stretch- to spring forth unrestrained

A million go by, never settling on any one

Short days, long nights and a reversal of such

The leaves will crumble and fall into dust

Just as our nights have ends, so too will the reveries

And so I say,

With heavy heart in hand,

That dreams are just days that will pass away

Nightmares are just nights that still cling to the past

A single snowy day,

A year of good harvest,

The crisp taste of spring

And the winter before it.

These are all behind closed lids,

All thoughts unopposed

So let it coil forth into the sea

Release those aspirations, and think of next Summer.

Do not be bogged down with harsh thoughts of Winter,

Just as the sun must set,

So too must it rise.

So fall into bed with the flushed face of pride

Dream all your dreams

One at a time

Remember the good and forget the bad

For each day you live is another season survived.