For the Dreamer

This poem is for the dreamers, for those who once dreamed long ago and for those who still cling to their dreams. Doubters will appear in your life, trying to convince you to stop and pursue something lucrative, occupations and hobbies with monetary value, but rarely ever will these things completely fulfill the crave to dream. Indeed, many times we must resort to a boring desk job in order to pay the bills, but never completely sacrifice the things you truly enjoy; doing so leads to a life wrought with unhappiness and dissatisfaction. I believe that God gifts us with unique talents and dreams, and He allows us to uncover joy in them because He revels in seeing His children enjoying the life and skills He intended for us when He created us. He delights in you, and the ability to use your gifts, to dream, is a treasure we should never forget. When you doubt yourself, or when doubters try to deter you from achieving your dreams and goals, remember this, and never give up.

For the Dreamer:

They call us dreamers

Never achievers

Always the loners

Our heads in the clouds

We are the workers

Sometimes the fighters

Often the mothers

With jobs to be done

We are the scholars

Also the watchers

Seeking the learners

With noses in books

But schedules scattered

And frivolous chatter

Destroy what matters

Thus ends the dreamer

The would-be dancer

Is someone’s daughter

The wishful singer

Is another’s son

Artist or author

Dancer or singer

Teacher or lawyer

Were, long past, their dreams

Racer or ranger

Soldier or scholar

These things we all were

Once, a time ago

Wake up, oh dreamer

Become the achiever

Unite our brothers

And silence your doubts

If you liked this poem, please comment below! And even if you didn't, comment anyway and feel free to offer constructive criticism. 

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Happy Saturday!

Ice

Some background (and probably unnecessary) information accompanies this free verse poem that, if you previously read it on Facebook or Instagram, I did not share. If you do follow me on those platforms, I apologize for the lack of anything new to you, except maybe the reason behind the poem, which I will explain momentarily.

While we're on the subject of new things, though, my sister designed a logo for this blog! You can see it to the right, and please click on the photo to follow the link to her Instagram page for her artwork. She's a high school student, and art is her passion; I'm so proud of her and her accomplishments (her work utterly amazes me)! So please check that out and follow her if you want to see more!

Back to the background information. In Texas, especially the region where I live, we rarely see snow. The weather persistently stays dry and with a low of 40 degrees Fahrenheit most days, with some exceptions. Last week, we experienced several of those rare exceptions, as I walked across my college campus en route to the gym, I passed by one of the many ponds outside the gym. To my delight, ice covered most of the pond even though the sun shone upon it. The light cast the shadowed reflection of a tree upon the ice, and the colors struck me as beautiful, so naturally, I pulled out my phone and snapped a photo of it as proof that although we didn't see snow this year, we saw some form of frozen water!
Later that evening, I prepared to post that photo on social media, and because I prefer posting photos with a quote or clever caption beyond my own wit and words, I searched for poems about ice. Most of the results featured "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost; while a lovely poem, it wasn't quite what I wanted (even still, I recommend you read it if and when you find the opportunity). During supper, inspiration struck out of nowhere, and I promptly ignored my family (oops) and wrote this poem.

Ice creeps in,

You can’t ignore

The chill, the ache,

The lust for more.

In your bones,

So slow yet strong,

You’re bleeding ice—

There’s nothing wrong.

It burns within

And numbs without,

Bewitching all

With winter’s drought.

But ice is more

Than frozen lakes

It calms the mind,

While hearts it takes.

Frost claims what

Its fingers brush:

Soothing waves

And forests lush.

Like love, whose

Tendrils chill and burn,

By forcing stubborn

Hearts to yearn.

Love, like ice,

A burning chill,

Which begs the beating

Pulse to still.

I hope you enjoyed it. If so, please comment below! If not, feel free to comment and tell me what you didn't like about it. I firmly believe in constructive criticism, and enjoy hearing your thoughts and opinions. Thank you for reading!

~Abigail