What Are You Dreaming?

Are you still enthralled?
Or weary of my heroics?
I am all earnest now,
not just trying to knock you
off my feet, you know.

I’m overly dramatic,
at least in my writing.
It’s got to be, with a little
voyeuristic pleasure,
irreverently romantic.

There’s this thought I have.
That with all life’s predatory
antics, which I loathe,
will there be peace? Peace
then I give to you.

Sad when people get eclipsed
out, you and I too, will
just fly out of the house.
Good thing too. Then what?
It must’ve been a dream.

Prompt:

Sometimes I feel that I’m just a steward. You are too. What are you given stewardship of? Would that be duties that you carry out? Each in our world do we carry on performing acts of stewardship. This too, this writing stuff. I don’t even know why I do it. Does it even matter? But because it happens so naturally for me, I feel I’m just going with the flow. Then the wind changes direction, as it must, and the flow goes elsewhere. I’ll have to go then. One more month. So for today, think about the question of stewardship.

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