Lonely is the life of a dreamer ... reality's refugee ... like a poet, aware of subtle emotions. Conscious of the ultimate possibilities surrounding every circumstance ... a dreamer dances ... responds ... to a different kind of music. But such a lonely dance it is ... while others may see the writing on the wall, the dreamer reads between the lines, always in search of the true meaning. Reaching out, in vain at times, to grasp the final implications of any given situation ... though able to touch the deepest motions of those he loves, he finds it difficult to express his own ... perhaps the most misunderstood of all personalities, a dreamer looks for the underlying theme, a wishful view of a different reality.
~ Alan W. Goodson ~
~ Alan W. Goodson ~
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Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
~ William Butler Yeats ~