Dream Catcher

My dreams have taken flight and soared, become free-wheeling gulls hanging on the ever-changing wind currents. For moments at a time they dip, disappear behind some rocky outcroppings on the coast of this murky ocean that threatens to swallow me whole. And I run after them, hands outstretched, fingers grasping, just to catch a few feathers as my dreams fly away, just a few feathers to remind me what it was to hold a dream in the palm of my hand.

I run, stumbling, gasping for breath, the sharp remaining shells of seafish cutting into the soles of my feet. Cutting into my soles, cutting away from my soul.

The ocean on one side, offering oblivion of a dark sort, brooding, morose, but oblivion all the same. The dreams that fly, somersaulting in the air above me. And on the other side? Lies the unknown. So I run for the dreams, I must catch some feathers.

May 5, 2005