poem: no. 154
from our poet of the month: Wilder
"but the color of moonrise / will visit at the same time / it did yesterday and make / constellations out of me."
there is truth hiding
underneath these pillows
like dreams resting behind
closed eyes that wanted
me to stay.
morning may leave me
with nothing to hold,
but the color of moonrise
will visit at the same time
it did yesterday and make
constellations out of me.
you can't always see your dreams,
but that doesn't mean they aren't there.
"The last two lines are the most important part of this poem. I think we are all born dreamers and somewhere along the way, we grow out of them. As children, our dreams are right in front of us, easy to see with our hearts and imagination. Nothing is impossible, but as years pass us by those dreams seem to become a distant memory...out of sight. out of mind. The reality is the dreams are always there waiting to be found, it's just remembering how to get there."
Listen to Wilder read no. 154:
Wilder on Wilder Poetry:
I wanted others that found their way to Wilder to feel as if the words were written for them. I wanted them to feel like this space was their home in the middle of a crowded day.
There are three little dots that accompany every post that I share, it is also a symbol that lives on my skin - it represents you, me and us. I write these words for you, I write these words for me, I write these words for us. And for as long as I have words left to write. It will always be this way.