2025-05-22-2

Awakening to the Dream

(and Helping Others Grow)

I woke not with a start, but slow,

As morning spills its softest glow.

The world remained, yet something shifted—

The veil was thin, the weight was lifted.

I saw that life, so sharp and real,

Was shaped by thought, by dream, by will.

The fears I wore like second skin

Were stories whispered from within.

No gate was locked, no cage was sealed,

Just truths I hadn’t yet revealed.

And in that hush, I breathed anew—

The dream was mine. I always knew.

But waking isn’t just for one—

The dream is shared beneath the sun.

So now I walk with gentler pace

To help another find their place.

I will not pull, I will not preach,

But plant the questions thought can’t reach.

I’ll listen deep, beyond the noise,

For aching hearts and silenced voice.

Not to fix, but to remind—

The path to self is never blind.

I’ll cheer the stumble and the rise,

The trembling truth behind their eyes.

For growth is not a perfect arc,

But fire born inside the dark.

So wake, dear soul — the dream is near.

Not fantasy, but truth made clear.

And as you rise, just simply be—

Your light will help the next soul see.

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