Dreams, like butterflies caught in the wind
Aspirations of Greatness Haunt My Waking Dreams
KTHT Challenge Prompt June 8th, 2022 — write through the pain
It clung, like spider to a fly Like memory to an event it had no say in creating.
Just a day. An awkward tedious, ache-filled sort of day. Best left behind. Best forgotten, like a kiss that never came.
But no, it needed. It wept profusely for the chance it never had. For the aspirations that fell away – like petals off an aging rose.
It wanted. Like we all want, something grand, something elegant that it could talk about at parties; Reminisce to our grandchildren as we grow old.
Not just a day. With nothing special. With no spark of brilliance lighting the way. But a celebration. An awakening that all could share in – I have arrived.
I am what I yearned to be.
But here I remain — chipping away. Turning stone into images. Crafting each hour on my own. My day. One fucking day that shines so brightly, the stars lodge complaints and feel shamed.
One day, where all the yesterdays sigh collectively, exhaling winds of satisfaction that lifts me up to where I was meant to be.
It clung, like rain drops to fallen leaves. Holding onto its dream — my dream. To be great. To rise above. To best all others, and punch far above my weight –
As accolades, like snowflakes from yesterday’s tears, fill the landscape and bring me peace of mind and resolution.
I have arrived.
I saw a poem from Jenine about this prompt. Hers was about dark chocolate — had to read it.
Then read the prompt itself from Ravyne Hawke at KTHT.
Writing inevitably attaches itself to dreams or goals or whatever we choose to call them. Flags stuck deeply in some far-off land that we must reach. My writing is no exception. Dreams have come and gone. Fragments remain, somehow reconstituting into a new one that I once again feel obliged to pursue. This poem came from that desire and this prompt.
Perhaps others would like to write from this prompt. Harley King, Agnes Laurens, J.D. Harms