Keeping Dreams

I think I'll
stow my dreams awhile,
but I'll keep them close
in a safe place,
where, on a whim,
I can go over them,
like poring
over old photographs,
with a dull ache, regret,
and longing at times,
with overwhelming
emotions on others.

I'll pass them on to you.

They're never tired,
but I am, quite frankly;
some ends are loose and frayed,
but the luster remains,
is unfaded,

I'll pass on the luster to you.

I've lost the fire,
only survival and wisdom
remain, and the occasional
pining and ambition,
all day to day and short-term,
nothing grand, that I might be
disappointed tomorrow.

They'll never be
out of date or incongruous,
they've helped me through,
they've fetched me memories
both mediocre and grand,

I'll pass on the grand to you.

I'll keep them pristine
and ready, they're yours
if hope and courage you have,
if imagination and ideals
compose your days,
if you find magical the smell
of first rain meeting
scorched earth,
if you can find
gladness out of nowhere,
merely imagining
goodness in people,
if you yearn to be
on a mountain above clouds,
hoping for some
strange peace and joy,
if you will not squander time,
if you can give your all,

I'll pass them all to you.