A hope of a dreamer

                   Finally I feel the layers of me shedding.
Holding out the empty skin for the garbage. Perhaps the
disgust held in the flaking bits of revenge deserved the
piles of yesterday.

                     Swinging, swaying my limbs back and forth
I fing a tune, a daring dream hidden. Oh I must shake
it out. Airing the dust to the mighty wind. So gently
a girlish laughter echoes, escaping in the midnight song.

                     Oh laughing, skipping of the freedom
dispersed throughout mind, soul and spirit. The opened
expressions found choked by the dirt of a thousand
decades. So fine are the fibers and yet so strong is
the bond.

                   Indeed I am here. Guided, helping
and learning through the lives expanded before
darkening irises. Glimpse over the smallest speck
of dust and a treasured sigh you will find. The most
precious part of me, held within your hands.

                  Here I beg of you to hold. To learn the
depths of who I am. Daring you to be bold in your
determination. Finding the levels of simplicity in one
smile, one dream I cherish. Demand to know.

                 Ah awakening. Wondering how to make my
plea against your ever growing lists. How do I fit in,
I do not know. I cannot ask, I can only cling to hope,
to faith, to trust. All I ask is the same..... and for love.

                Though a current so strong can waver, can
trade trials with war. Still the critical moment
escalates through just one hope. Did you know that is
stronger that anything? The endurance, the patience
finds roots but only with the strength of hope.

                 Sure I am well aware that I am a dreamer
or an optimist but I do see reality too. Is it worth
anything? Indeed, as I climb higher and higher.
Drawing ever closer until"no" is stamped a million
times over me. Yet even that doesn't stop me for there
is hope.

               Proving my worth was so important for me,
once. Oh the levels of acceptance I craved. Now I am
sure of one thing ~ I am imperfect. I know I will always
be learning, enduring, adapting, loving, dreaming and
hoping. To change those of me, is wrong.

              I know I am not the wind. I am not the feather
that drifts. I am Mary. Either you love me or leave
me. Take all that I am or let go. I will forgive just as
those have forgotten. So easily.

             Constantly, I would think that I was unreachable,
incapable of being loved nor being able to express the
depth of love in return. Yet, here, I have learned the
forms. Clarity of strengths outweigh the damaged parts.
Clearly I remember the foul taste that remained. How
so the marigold falls fading in the bouquets of
void. Yet now shines radiantly. Those sorrows, the pain
all found, buried and fading to dust.

           Concerned over the buried, fading parts
possibly taking root of cold stone. Echoing the despair
of hate across the kindness. Ah I step back, pressing
the hugs of today into the bitterness. Finding pure
sweetness oozing. Ah decadent are the little things,
yes?

           Still I cry now and then. Flexing my barrier
of weakness across the bridge. My question, though,
is do you want to be a part of this viewing? Hearing
and maybe experiencing the renewal of me, Mary?
Oh a hope, one prayer I jump inside my dream.

          Here I am. Fiery coppers dance across paleness
creasing a tiny smile across formed roses. Dare you
take a peek inside, dare you want to enter.

                         A hope of a dreamer.