There's a tree over there that waits for its dreamer.
I have survived many. And lost much but to tell all would encumber several human spans because I have lived and longed. I have learned and yearned. I have waited. At the train station, where existence can only be fulfilled via a spiritual connection. Bounded by roots that twist and secure Soon to be bonded with thoughts Floating through the sky, riding the air waves, see-through till caught in a spider's web, or something like it. And imaginary gets real. Take in the matter Scrub the void with scrounged emotions and colors Pour in materials of lint and string. Mediums with no particular conductance, but taught it tight and strum till the vibrations reverberate and bring your idea to life in my wings Because you are my dreamer. And I am your catcher. Hung on a wooden peg, in your study. Waiting for the day you pick me up and all your dreams tumble out and materialize and you realize **who you are.