Once upon a time
You scooped up your dreams that lay about and presented them to me one by one.
Each one lit your eyes as you passed it from your lips
To let it hang, for three long seconds, before it hit my ears.
Each thought a marvel of ingenuity,
Aloft with a joy untainted by anything other than anticipation.
“How beautiful,” I thought,
But must have forgotten to say,
For soon you gathered them up,
and tucked them in your chest.
Let me say now that hope is my favorite color on you,
Unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
So pull out the dreams, however dusty, and speak them once again.
And this time when I listen,
I will tell you how they make you shine.