His Dream
The rustle of leaves,
The patter of tiny feet,
The whisper of the river,
The stillness of the air,
The squeak of little creatures,
The flap of feathered wings.
These are the things
That surround him.
He gazes beyond his world
And wonders how
These beauties came to be.
Everything is music to him,
Though not to us all.
Some say that he is insane,
That he doesn't hink straight,
But they don't understand
The ways of his mind.
He dreams of days
Where everyone would enjoy
The simple bliss of life itself.
He dreams of a world
Where all that we hear is music,
A world much like his own,
But where there is no heartache.
poem by Zoe Guillory
Added by Poetry Lover
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