How Can I Not Dream (by Timm)

How can I not but dream,
when it is my very nature
I can’t not think of a new road
And to visualize exploring new lands
To climb mountains I have visited
So many times in the twilight hours
To swim in foreign seas
Diving deep to touch the reefs
Running with the steeds who
Call the steeps their home
Sitting in the temples built
To worship a foreign God
To ask me not to
Would be like
Asking the hunter not to hunt,
The salmon not to swim,
Or the cheetah not to run.

How can I not be true
To the creation God created
What greater sacrilege is there
Than to reject my own unique design
But what a great price is exacted
When we choose to live from the heart.
When the masses have settled for resignation
Rather than suffering through.
Yes there are times I’ve cried to be released
From the burden of who I was created to be.
For how easily the dreams get crushed
And how tragically they finally die
Leaving me shedding tears of sadness
mixed with bitter rage
Of losing a lover whom I had never truly had
Like sand she slipped through my fingers
Like a vapor she faded away.

But how can I not but dream?

Am I insane for wanting-no
Choosing to carry on
Do I like the pain that
The crushing defeats do bring?
I am no masochist – this I am truly know
Nor a gambler who keeps playing
Waiting for they’re big scored to come
It is not the excitement
Or thrill of the dream I seek
But those few precious moments of when
Finally they come in to being
And I stand-
Living out the dream.


-- by Timm O'Cobhthaigh, Nov. 2005