Dusting off dreams…

As I turn to leave my forties….one backward glance goodbye,
my eyes land on some dreams gone stale,
dusty heartcries and old glue pressed onto memory board,
edges curled and faded,
calling,  drawing me near
like a warm fire burning,
come and remember

Run your heart-fingers across this field of dreams,
of grapes kissed ripe by sunshine,
barefoot ballerina and deer drinking deep from stream,
of smooth stones stacked sturdy,
joyful fingers shaping clay,
building a place to heal and thrive and play.

Dust off the dreams of digging my life,
of hands held, seeds scattered and paths of peace,  grateful and wild;
of the paint-speckled girl turning cartwheels,  wind and clover in her hair
turned loose
and big results with little things,  simple and balanced and free,
of letting love flow…..getting out of the way.

Air out the dreams,  crisped fresh again,
of riversongs,  shamrocks on white icing
and the feel of cool bark on my tree-hugging face,
of windows rolled down on wide open road,
calm, unhurried thinking,
and for my art to make a difference….for my life to be my art,
hands in the air,
deeply alive and in love.
Dream it strong…..I dare you.

It’s my birthday!
I’m ready for a new decade(and taking that dare).
I’ve dusted off some dreams-gone-stale and am letting them mess with me
in a wonderful way.
And hey,  if you lived next door,  I’d skip to your door and invite you out to play
and there would be cake
and I’d share the wishes
and we’d take down the candles together:)