A Lost Idea

Last night I had a dream that I was a lost idea
being carried in the thoughts of a bird.
We soared above the snow capped mountains
to where a sound has never been heard.

Soaring ever higher we had left the day,
but below us we could still see the light.
I wondered what I was doing here as an idea,
and what was the purpose of this bird’s flight.

As we struggled in the turbulent high winds
the bird’s thoughts couldn’t hold on to me.
I was captured by the streams of chaotic gusts,
forever held by the winds of eternity.

To countless galaxies we journeyed,
back and forth to the past and beyond.
The tiring wind became a lazy breeze,
which released me from its bond.

A whispering free spirit took hold of me
who knew well its place in time and space.
In its thoughts it carried me for several life times,
then it took me to my conception place.

The roaming free spirit helped me to catch a ride,
on someone’s knowledgeable thought train,
but alas I was to antiquated to be of any use,
so here in the air I remain.

poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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