To The Strangers Anxiously Waiting For Me To Finish So They Can Fly Into Their Dreams
by Loretta Diane Walker

I try to imagine you
in the soft fabric of this day.
Your black robes, temporary wings
trembling on the air of joy.
Your faces as changing as clouds
drifting across the sky of my imagination.
I must have a name for what I store
in the basket of my mind, name you Destiny.

Here you are waiting for your diploma,
the gold-sealed ticket
that will give flight to your dreams.
How will you fill the space
when they are fluttering in the gale
of your future?
Will you lecture morning
with its ragged silver light
about perpetual beginnings
and early starts?
Will you shave the dark edges of night
with the sharp wit of your plans?

What can I give you to hide
in the pocket of your memory?
Life’s big sister, Wisdom?
It’s strong nail, Truth?
Dreams are hard masters
with unrelenting demands.
If you bow beneath their heavy hands,
know there is beauty in humility.
Courage in letting your heart walk alone
in the wide unkempt field of the unknown.

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