Chasing Dreams

Beneath the skies where morning’s born,

I drift through rays of golden dawn,

With fleeting thoughts like wings of light,

Where dreams awaken, taking flight.

The world feels softer, slow, surreal,

As magic dances in the real.

Each heartbeat hums a melody,

In sync with silent reverie.

But then, a shift—a sudden pull,

The air grows thick, the sky less full.

The dream I chased begins to fade,

Yet something stirs in what’s remade.

For in the quiet, afterthought,

A truth emerges, gently caught—

It’s not the dream we grasp in sleep,

But hope we hold, and promises keep.

So let the dreamers dare to roam,

Their hearts a compass guiding home.

In every day, a dream may bloom,

And in its light, we find our room.

Postscript: This poem explores the heartfelt pursuit of dreams and the quiet realization that hope is the true thread that ties our moments together, capturing a sense of magic in the ordinary.