“Tell me about your dreams” These words are comonly spoken As the miles fly under the wheels of our family van. As children shift constrained and belted Anticipation focuses attention when one of us says “Oh yeah… I had a great one last night”
Cars fly past windows unnoticed as crazy stories unfold Bizzar and often histerical recollections recreated Pulling smiles from faces that had been grimmed by A sister or brother sitting much… too… close. We all share and in turn we spin our tales Keeping thoughts inside and miles unnoticed.
In rare, fortunate times only one sits beside me As we hurtle past thousands of dashed lines. We talk about dreams of the future. About possible lives. And of where we are going, in the larger sense. And sometimes dreams of love.
Were this another time, these would be fire side stories Or told in a quiet cabin piled deep with snow. On these fleeting days the chamber that traps this family togeather Is of steel and upholstery and lost toys, empty water bottles and forgotten french fries. Time limited only by the seasons of these children and the miles of the trip.
“Tell me about your dreams” Most of all, mine is that someday They too share long car rides with their loved ones And capture many extra miles of their children’s journeys, As often as they can.