Saving the world is a full time job.
But sometimes crying is too.
I’m thinking about big hats. Sombrero-like. They have pretty good Mexican food too.
A wall 5 decades tall and a dozen crushed dreams wide.
The moat flows with a million tears shed in the shadow of the bright light of hope.
Does the light bring the hope or does the hope create the light, an old hand-cranked projector delivering flickering stories spinning tales of the future we might create.
Ring around the rosie spinning, spinning turning reality into a blur where dreams take shape and a single bright light explodes into a vision.
Grips us so tight.