Do animals dream of castles,
White wedding cakes, and wine;
Of making out midst beauty-
To never look behind?
Our minds build worlds of ozone
Upon the mists of time;
Construction quite unearthly,
All built inside the mind.
The world that we inhabit
Is largely made of space
And then we try to fill it
With imaginations place.
The real world's too unseemly,
And stifles us with laws,
And doesn't fit the playbill,
And never stops to pause.
If we could stop the world,
And form it to our means,
We'd pull out all the pilings
And rip out all the seams.
If we could change the format,
With the whimsy born of thought,
The walls would be of flowers;
The doors, by ivy wrought.
And love would be the conqueror,
And beauty would be king-
And dreams and secret fantasies,
The world's most precious things.
Patti Masterman
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-most-precious-things/
