Dreams

.

Dreams

are delicate things.

Like feathers floating on the wind,

If we catch and clutch

they distort and dampen

and can no longer float effortlessly on the breath of Heaven.

And so with open hands

I watch them

Skip upon the breeze

Flit and float

Dip and flutter.

I hold my breath...

Are they flittering near,

teasing,

or

are they flying...

away?

I do not know.

I cannot breathe.

How fragile are dreams such as these.

.