A poem about how it takes real vision sometimes to see and realize what dreams there might be upon the mind’s horizon.

A simple thought overcomes me as I sit pondering what dreams might still yet come.

Dreams which have gone before are all grayed and fuzzed within my future memories.

Vision is necessary to see what is yet unseen and seeing that which is yet still to come.

A bright nimbus upon the sleeping horizon unfurls itself with a spiraling luminescence.

Like the shining sun a dream emerges to illuminate the vast and unfathomable unknown.

Brightly billowing with gossamer wings the dream sets flight upon the winds of fantasy.

Inspiration ignites the engines of imagination as the unfolding vision discloses no mystery.

Awestruck with vivid potentiation I correlate creativity with inertly perceptive perspective.

Conceptual discernment slowly slinks and quietly slips away into fractional fomentation.

Brilliance bespangles me as benevolence beams brilliantly to illuminate fully the dream.

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