Restoring a Land of Dreams

Grant Hope #237

There was a girl that dreamed with all the bold colors of peacock feathers
every shade of fall flowed in her hair
in fact
when she dreamed
she crossed the precipice of the sleepy brush where butterfly fairies sing

Mounting her trusted lynx of the north
navigating cold wood and sunny mountain range
holding its back for transport and comfort
it spoke to her of the history of the land where humans were once its heroes
while the gray birds acted as a daylight compass to the castle under the airship in the sky that flew as if by magic in all hours
a constant as present as a constellation

It was in the haze where the reality of this fading dream was fated to be known once more
and the girl who dreamed of it
one way or the other
would understand its secrets

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