A DREAM IS JUST A DREAM..

If a dream is just a dream, 

something that happens in your mind 

while you're asleep, 

then that's alright. 

It's yours to take with you into the morning, 

and it fades away there in the light. 

But when the dreams start to come while you're awake,

and they come with the light, 

then that is not all right. 

What we look for then is other people 

who have dreamed what we've dreamed, 

who have seen what we've seen. 

When the dreams become real, 

sometimes the only comfort you can find 

is in knowing that you're not alone.

~ Taken

BENEATH THE SKY

My mother always talked to me a lot about the sky. 

She liked to watch the clouds in the day, 

and the stars at night

... especially the stars. 

We would play a game sometimes, 

a game called, 

what's beyond the sky. 

We would imagine darkness, 

or a blinding light, 

or something else that we didn't know how to name. 

But of course, that was just a game. 

There's nothing beyond the sky. 

The sky just is, 

and it goes on and on, 

and we play all of our games beneath it.

~ Taken

My Son ...

You will be different, 

sometimes you'll feel like an outcast, 

but you'll never be alone. 

You will make my strength your own. 

You will see my life through your eyes, 

as your life will be seen through mine. 

The son becomes the father 

and the father becomes the son. 

~  Kal-El

THE NIGHT DANCE

The Night Dance

Strike the gay harp! see the moon is on high, 

And, as true to her beam as the tides of the ocean, 

Young hearts, when they feel the soft light of her eye, 

Obey the mute call, and heave into motion. 

Then, sound notes -- the gayest, the lightest, 

That ever took wing, when heaven look'd brightest 

Again! Again! 

Oh! could such heart-stirring music be heard 

In that City of Statues described by romancers, 

So wakening its spell, even stone would be stirr'd, 

And statues themselves all start into dancers! 

Why then delay, with such sounds in our ears, 

And the flower of Beauty's own garden before us -- 

While stars overhead leave the song of their spheres, 

And, listening to ours, hang wondering o'er us? 

Again, that strain! -- to hear it thus sounding 

Might set even Death's cold pulses bounding -- 

Again! Again! 

Oh, what delight when the youthful and gay 

Each with eye like a sunbeam and foot like a feather, 

Thus dance, like the Hours to the music of May, 

And mingle sweet song and sunshine together.

~ Thomas Moore