Dreamer

a Poem for peace

I thought once that I could jump to the moon,
if I tried harder than anyone before me.
I'd practice like a tasmanian devil,
whirling and screeching from dawn to dusk
tirelessly leaping to dizzying heights,
muscles forged to hardened steel
born of iron will and lava hot desire.

I dreamed that when I solved and cured
the sickness of bigotry and hatred,
all those around me treated each other
with care and compassion.
acid dripping barbs and humiliating attacks
transformed into friendship and acceptance.

I imagined a place where differences
held hands warmly with the norm,
embracing every time they met
like old friends separated by circumstance,
then re-united by chance.

But that was a long time ago,
another life, certainly not mine.
Perhaps I was born a dreamer
with more imagination than common sense
silently searching for hope and goodness
in barren and hostile lands.