Category: Dreams

Believe

©Believe

Believe in the miracles inside you,

Have faith in the God who shapes your dreams,

Walk tall, to yourself be true.

 

Abide obstacles strewn along your way,

The nagging naysayers of folly,

In confidence walk each day.

 

Should not your wishes find

Fulfillment at the journey’s end,

Look skyward with peace of mind.

 

You have given in honest measure

That most noble part of your tender soul

And, in reward, heaven’s treasure.

 

So, believe in wonders yet to be,

Passing through life’s many gates

On your way to eternity.

 

©Believe

 

©Billy Ray Chitwood – August 6, 2019

 

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The Aberrant Knight

Photo Art by: Thomas Kinto – Unsplash

 

The Aberrant Knight

 

There’s ‘a man’ I met in a book where his dream and thought became one, a place in his fertile mind where a noble nomadic fool chases imagined windmills in the night, whose mind is inured to reality, who wishes to bring peace to himself, to the tired and weary peasants who labor in their masters’ causes.

 

‘He’ listened while walking the long tedious furrows of their labors and heard their soft voices humming, some singing in soulful whispers ballads of meager yesterdays or the bright tomorrows that never came. They were silent men and women who could not put the finesse, the literacy in their constant thoughts, but they bled when their skin were torn and their bodies ached from the long days in the shallow pits. Their dreams were not so unlike those who had means for fulfilling their wistful longings of the mind and of the soul, those whose fates were more clearly wise and defined.

 

‘The man’ I met in a book took me along for his evening rides, he on the back of his simple donkey, me in the adorned and flashy saddle of my great golden steed.

 

‘The gentle man’ would finally die a sorrowful and most lonely death, leaving a piece of his heart with me…

 

I have chased those windmills ‘the man’ left inside my mind. I have walked the furrowed land, heard the soft humming and singing in the pits and I fear my fate will differ little from that man who would be the patrician knight of us all.

 

Billy Ray Chitwood – August 2, 2019

 

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Summer Dreaming

 

Summer Dreaming

 

Sweet Silence surrounds me,

Save for my melodic humming

Of ‘The Wayward Wind’,

Soft, sonorous, and spacious…

Wafting, wending westward

On white cloud puffs

Of far distant dreams,

In flight and gentle frenzy

Toward more tomorrows…

 

Tis but a simple hum,

A Vagabond’s season-song

Of mythical mysteries,

Misty yearning yesterdays

Flowing, fleeting across

Lazy landscapes filled

With wistful wonder,

Sweet sorrow and regret,

A paean with gossamer wings.

 

Life takes its meanings

From fools’ frets and quests.

Minions find their way

To this poetic plateau

For the Romantic,

The jive of Jesters,

The sad throng of

Nomad Ninnies

Some will call Poets.

 

Billy Ray Chitwood – July 30, 2019

 

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Dream

Photo art by Aaron Andrew Ang – Unsplash

 

Dream

 

To dream is to escape!

To escape is to free yourself!

To free yourself is to disappear!

To disappear to visit your Soul!

To visit your Soul is to create!

To create is to dazzle your senses!

To dazzle your senses is to be bold!

To be bold is to be new with yourself!

To be new with yourself is to view life on your terms!

To view life on your terms is to give the world a piece of you!

To give the world a piece of you is to go beyond imposed limits!

To go beyond imposed limits is to find a magical you!

To find a magical you is to give expression…

To the magical you!

In a chosen Art!

Go beyond imposed limits!

Show a piece of you!

On your terms!

Being bold with the new you!

Dazzling even yourself!

Creating what you find beautiful!

Calming your soul with your creations!

Disappearing in that new, free, world of Creation!

Escaping the world’s mock-up and foolery!

In those dreams to which you have escaped!

A marvelous revelation that comes for your salvation!

To Dream is to live and escape the surly bonds!

There, high above the clouds of reality and Man-made truth!

 

B R Chitwood – July 14, 2019

 

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Westward, Toward the Light

Westward, Toward the Light

There was magic borne on the wind that carried my assorted and disassembled dreams westward. Go West, young man, go west! was the mantra that kept playing softly on my harp of hope, onward to dispel the cravings of a life so unspent, so emotionally charged, to find a place of peace and refuge.

The hay straw still showed behind each ear as the journey took my meager belongings toward the unknowable, the fancy of a young man’s flight. The salt air of an ocean reached and settled sweetly in a naïve mind, its aroma a quiet compelling elixir of jangled thoughts filled with youthful wonder, wild imaginings, and a nervous sense of doubt and fear from an inconsistent past.

So began my adventure into the world where youth gave way to the neon lights, adventures built from beach sand and romance, with but a glimmer, always, but a glimmer to a dream that might come true. Aided by Bacchus’ soothing near-miraculous stirring of spirit, my reach, my grasp, were temporary, daring me to the very edge of some total climactic and thunderous denouement.

And, so it was for a lifetime, this chase, this forever search for some reasonable continuity of existence and purpose. Along with the virginal beginning and the tempest days of debauchery, there came the muse who perchance reached into a soiled soul of enraptured, uncaptured, carousel of desires and bade me be a scribe to all I see, sense, and embrace.

Thus, here I be with the only gauge of my existence, my mind free to roam all expanses, sullied only by its depth and cognition. How much of me is obsequious, imaginary, existent, is not for me to say. ‘Why can you not say’? One could ask. Because I do not know would be my answer.

No long white beard announcing Socratic wonders, still, here in the bosom of old age, I wander down the paths of my mind, still, emotionally, searching, plotting courses uncharted in this, my minimal odyssey.

BR Chitwood – May 6, 2019

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Where the Dreams Are

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Where The Dreams Are

Where The Dreams Are
There on the horizon
Where the clouds
Where the Sun
Where the winds 
Bring shimmering shadows
On the placid surface
Of the cobalt sea…

 
Dreams live in all
These converging elements
From the melodious music
Of hungry souls…

 
Those who somehow
Know that the thief of night
Cannot for long defy the
Precious treasures that
Await us in that dazzling
Merger of colors…

Out there
On the horizon
Where the dreams are.

Billy Ray Chitwood – April 19, 2018 (ARCHIVES)

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