Dreambeast... my whole website is named after a poem I wrote many years ago. It's the personification of those majestic dreams we all have burning deep within: well-nourished dreams ripe for the picking; dreams we are sure will land in our lap like magic. However, we often ignore those same dreams at our peril and end up wondering how they vanished and where they went . But do dreams ever truly disappear? Do they transform into something more sinister if left all alone? A growing sensation of grumbles and groans that mock those rose-tinted hopes; a haunting spirit that makes you surrender your dreams and discard them for reality? Were we all just silly star-gazing fools?
I say no!
Surely, it's never too late to create new dreams. As a child, I wanted to be a pop star, a dancer, an actor but I have to be honest, those dreams slipped through my fingertips. I only have myself to blame. I didn't work hard enough to achieve them. I lost focus. Youthful, hedonistic, for-the-moment good times got in the way. And I don't regret a second. However, when I came out the other side, it was everyone else's fault for a while - could-have-would-have-should-have-been.
Aspirational dreaming can be an affliction and a blessing or both don't you think? But what if we allow our dreams to evolve, mutate and reinvent themselves? Can we still do justice to our past and make it present? Possibly. Maybe those beliefs can take new forms, new life and carry us into a modern world of endless possibilities.
These days, I love writing poetry and stories to reflect on all that went before, all that is and all that is yet to come. However this time, I stuck at it. I didn't let the dream grow old or give permission for the hope-splatterers to steal my ambitions. And then what happens? Belief buds and blossoms. But dreams are prone to be ephemeral, so you need to nurture them well ; only then can they transform into the golden promises you made yourself many years before.
Getting my poetry published makes my soul soar and finally does justice to that dreamer from ages since. It's like I've kept a secret promise to the 70's, unsure, long-haired child from a faded photograph in Great Yarmouth, surrounded by the ladybird plague of 1976.
Those red carpets of ladybirds, forty odd years on, now a metaphor for the swarming, bright ambitions of 2021 - like a time loop has opened up and allowed both lives to co-exist. The child and the man in perfect unison, spurring each other on to be better, be braver, be brighter.
I finally realise that the awe and wonder of seeing a million Ladybirds rolling out their red carpet before me in a fairground when I was 6, is the same awe and wonder crawling with hope through my every bone, breath and heartbeat today.
It feels glorious. Totally glorious. And I'm never giving up on my dreams.
Are you?
Dreambeast
If you have a dream
That won’t go away
That gnaws at your toes
With each waking day
That sings beneath notes
And swirls between stars
From lines in great books
It thrashes and gnarls
From cinema screens
It leaps along light
And twists your insides
And stalks you at night
Then give it attention
Tame that wild dream
It’s there for a reason
Yet to be seen
A beast of the future
Only you own
Don't let it escape
Into the unknown
Train it with care
And boost its esteem
Spotlight it brightly
So it can be seen
Or dreams can turn nasty
Tire and groan
Diminishing creatures
If left all alone
The beast never dies
Just shrinks and goes cold
A lone, solemn dream
Growing weary and old
So feed it with strength
Believe that it’s real
Nurture with love
And trust how it feels
Fight the dream-bruisers
Wish-batterers too
And splatterers of hope
Who'll be waiting for you
Feel the roar rumble
Hear every shout
It’s your beast of a dream
Dying to get out
©2009 Mark C Bird
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