I DREAMED THIS

 
I aspire to pluck something beautiful
From the intangible, the hazy, the imaginary
And grow it on paper
Etch its likeness into lined leaves
Press color and life into ink and graphite
Embraced by two halves of a battered notebook
It shall lie there, sleeping, waiting, breathing
I will watch it sometimes
I will press my lips to the surface
And taste the essence of patience
With my hand, with my pen
I will coax sunshine into it,
I will breathe my soul into it
Under an exacting eye, it will be meticulously
Prodded, molded, rubbed raw
And just as it begins to awaken from its
Meditative, buried slumber
I shall sing to it as I set it afire
And when the embers have licked it 
Melded ashy tears with burnt fire
I will hold it close to my chest and then
I will set it free
Into the imaginary, the hazy, the imaginary
Adorned with wings of faith
That the next who finds it caught, kite-like,
In a nearby tree
Will marvel at its loveliness
And sow it in her heart