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The Dream Maker

I’ve stopped noticing
the butterflies. I just
thought of that. Or
they are in Mexico
and I am not.

Or maybe they no
longer can see me,
or forgot where I

They just come and
go. That is what they
do. Maybe I need
to get some rest.

Or maybe read a
book that doesn’t
remind me of what
I’ve missed or lost.

Or watch a movie,
or read another book
that reminds me of
promises yet to come.

What is it that they
bring with them that
is so special? Their
silence speaks.

They move in patterns
made only for them.
They are one of many
silent messengers.

When they stop, time
stops. Their wings
move slowly giving
us a taste of God’s
eternal peace and
His unfailing love.

A taste of eternity in
a moment of time.

As if to remind us to
never stop dreaming,
never stop hoping.

And then as quickly as
they appeared, as
quickly as they stopped,
they are gone.

But not your dreams,
but not your hopes,
or the Dream Maker.


Categories: Poetry

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Poet, Writer, US Army (Retired)

I dreamed of writing when I was a youngster. The love of books and writing may have helped to dull the pain of severe sexual abuse as I was sexually abused by two men at my father’s place of work from age 8 to 12 or so. I learned about this for the first time when I was 50 years old. So, as a boy, reading was the only place I had to go to. My fantasy world was better and safer than my real world. I loved reading and writing.
Reading books and writing poetry are a joy to me still and are an important part of my life. (See my About Me page on my blog for the complete profile.)

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