Dreams Made of Real Stuff

I so want my dreams to be made more of dirt than of sky.

When you formed man you took dirt and created.

You formed your dreams from the dust of the ground.

 

You molded me in your image with a desire to create from earth.

I can’t seem to take sky high dreams and give them shape.

I can only pray that somehow my dreams will become dirt.

 

They’ll be made of real stuff, which people can feel and touch.

Small kids should be able to roll in the muck of it.

And old men should find in it unexpected buried treasures.

 

Take my dreams and give them lift, send them soaring.

Then pull them down into new perspectives.

Like a shoe caked in layers of mire, deep and genuine.

–Val Burgess

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