Dreams are easy to catch,
they flit past us in thick droves.
I have a closetful and don’t know
what to do with them. They
don’t like to be molded, they
spring back to their old shapes
if you let them go, the more you
hold them, the more ridiculous the
thought of taming them becomes.
Like butterflies, they’re in the air,
like butterflies they never look the same
when you catch them and put them in a jar.
Better if they can fly and take you
with them.
by Cher Bibler
