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"Little things becoming"
by David Barger
2009-08-08 07:40:19
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What feather soared higher than any dream?
A dream is not developed within an egg.
It is ordained
             within the salvation of the mind.
The idea which is lifted from the blackest barathrum,
And is dandled in the arms of a lickerish dreamer.

Betrayal never comes from the thoughts hatched
Newly breathing it is judased by the oppressed
Parent during
          fable-like pelargic parturition.
Why tease such dreams with hopeful intentions
When locks are chained at the ruderal portioned heart?

There needs to be an overflowing of determination,
And enduring desire stronger than the strength
Found in what
              remains of a cracked eggshell.
Consider the timeframe gathered with growth.
What flower sprouted, grew, and bloomed overnight?
Consider the mustard seed
                                        in relationship to life,
And with little things becoming bountiful and abundant
Then the realization is clearly seen between eye blinks.

Allow yourself the opportunity to know where joy hides,
But do not hinder the smallest thoughts to grow
Because it is in seedlings
                                 where dreams prosper.
The richest soil in the world never knew
Such fertile grounds as that which is found of the mind.
How far will your
                  thoughts reach
When the universe is virtually limitless?
Allow your dreams to abound, and in so being feracious,
And insomuch abounding above
All things deemed abundantly possible! 

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Emanuel Paparella2009-08-08 12:52:01
"It is in seedlings where dreams prosper."

Indeed, often the seedling called hope has to remain silently under the winter snow for a while, in the winter of our discontents, but eventually they come to fruition in the spring of our dreams and higher aspirations inevitably trumping despair and cynicism.

Thank you for sharing.

David Barger2009-08-08 20:39:50
Thank you for yor comment. A little encouragement for all to keep their dreams alive is much needed in such a twisted world lost of hope, except for that which lives in each one of us.

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