Keeper of Fading Dreams

He walks among the sleeping hopes,

The dreams that daylight left behind,

And helps the fragile blossoms cope,

With all the weights that make them blind.

His greenhouse stands where twilight stays,

Between the waking and the sleep,

Where dying dreams spend their last days,

And wounded promises may weep.

Each flower holds a different wish

The child's who wanted wings to fly,

The lonely heart that dreamed a kiss,

The artist's vision, sharp and shy.

Some dreams arrive with colors bright,

With determination strong and true,

While others come in dead of night,

Still wet with morning's early dew.

But time and doubt and weary days,

Can make the brightest dream grow cold,

Until its gentle, glowing rays,

Have just a silver thread to hold.

That's when the keeper does his work,

With gentle hands and softer voice,

He mends the places dreams may lurk,

And helps the weary to rejoice.

He breathes on petals growing pale,

And whispers courage to the roots,

He mends the dreams that almost fail,

And nurtures their forgotten shoots.

A dream of music, almost gone,

He fed with memories of song,

A hope for peace at break of dawn,

He helped to keep it standing strong.

He knows that dreams are living things,

That need both sunlight and the rain,

That need the hope the future brings,

To blossom once and once again.

So if your dream grows faint and weak,

And loses its familiar glow,

Just listen close you'll hear him speak,

"I've seen much stronger dreams, you know."

"For every dream that fades away,

A dozen more begin to grow,

Just have the courage still to stay,

And trust the path you do not know."

His greenhouse doors are never locked,

To any dream that needs repair,

No matter how the dream is blocked,

Or weighted down with doubt and care.

For in this world of breaking things,

Of faded hopes and dying light,

The dreamer's heart still bravely sings,

And keeps the darkness from the night.