My dream called life,
In the hours now passing;
The noon to evening arrives,
And star falls are classing.
There is a time called sun,
With hope unfinisable page;
Where shadows are on run,
And a peace before a rage.
My dream of a hope,
That burns among the lines;
With whirlwind some cope,
Before it onward shines.
Unfinished thoughts among,
Body of a flowing peek;
Where there is water song,
Life that one drinks to seek.
My dream world to come,
With every splendid ways;
No mere an empty blaflum,
That goes with lingering days.
What is a word if it's nothing?
Only the air and some names;
There must be sayings that sing,
And actions going like flames.
Peter S. Quinn
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-dream-called-life-from-poet-on-www/
