Dreams, the guru of imagination,
a religion of a divine vision,
of a deity leading the way,
of accessible achievements realized,
of grandeur sought and followed
in a humble manner,
of self-esteem building bridges,
linking accomplishments
to a higher plateau,
mental pictures coming to life,
swirling through the mind,
never going away,
climbing inside our being
and making us a part of them,
always there to remind us
that we can achieve our goal.
Through thorns
and thickets we plod
following their requirements,
cursing at the way
they make us uncomfortable
and the tyrannical way they treat us.
We question their validity,
our understanding of them,
our evaluation of ourselves,
letting our low self-esteem control us,
losing sight of the mental picture;
hence, our will to continue,
but something called a divine will,
that inborn engine in our being,
forces us to forge ahead
through the obstacles
and never give up,
designating us dream disciples,
dedicated followers of our dreams
as we place ourselves at the summit
of our aspirations.

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