The Dream Catchers
The world that you had once lived in [loved in] had fallen to despair,
Every grey cloud that hung above you as a warning,
Held the captured dreams of a million different men,
All looking to the sky, every day as they wished,
For rain.
For the rain would wash down the dreams from their catchers in the clouds, strung with beads,
Hung with silk, from every punctured lung and shattered jaw and hollow stomach –
That they possessed.
And the rain would drip to their open mouths, and distil them with a sense of glory,
For they are human beings; and they are triumphant – and they can rule the world.
But not once does it rain, and I’ve been here for eternity.
My brittle bones wish just for the dream of strength,
So one day I can hope to soar to the moon,
And bring back every un-shattered promise and fairy story and inspiration,
Until the people turn red, and yellow, and blue, and green
From the love
And the purple rain will wash away the grey.
