Where Dreams are Made

 

Through the rabbit hole

And into the sky

Past the clouds

Where dragons fly

Under the sun

And beyond the moon

Three witches stir a caldron

With a starry silver spoon

One by one

They drop things in

Dance around

Then the concoction begins

A mound of magic

A heaping of hope

And to keep it clean

They throw in some soap

A flavor of fear

A dash of desire

It’s not boiling yet –

Push those flames higher!

A fleck of failures

A lump of love

This next part is delicate –

They bring out the gloves.

A morsel of memories

A few shakes of wonder

Now they summon the storm clouds

The lightning, the thunder!

Let the brew boil

Let it sizzle and spark!

Let it crackle and splash

Until it grows dark!

Finally, the brew

Is as black as night

The storm starts to fade

The witches cackle in delight

Seasoning it with a sense of belonging

They dust off their hands

Only one step left

In their recipe plans

Carefully they lift

The hardened black block

Take out an axe

And commence to chop

Carving away

Until it has wings

Shimmery, black

Magnificent things

They start to shiver

To shudder, to shake

Then the thing

Starts to take shape

Into a dove

A midnight black dove

Glimmery, shimmery

Shining like the stars above

It takes off

And swoops down

Swirling, twirling

To the ground

***

Through the rabbit hole

And into the sky

Past the clouds

Where dragons fly

Under the sun

And beyond the moonbeams

That is where

Three witches make dreams

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