Dreams vs. Reality

February 25, 2015 § Leave a comment

At this stage of my life, odds are that I will not become a successful or well-known writer. However, that does not keep me from writing or dreaming. For many of us, dreams are what make it possible to get up each day and to get from one day to the next. For me, writing is also my main creative outlet, my chance to express my inner uniqueness.

My wife’s main creative outlet is playing guitar. At this stage of her life, she is not likely to become a famous guitarist, but that does not diminish her love of playing. Sometimes, she’ll play one song; sometimes, she’ll play until her fingers hurt.

Some nights, when she needs that creative outlet as well as some alone time, my wife will go into her office, close the door, take out her guitar, and play for an hour or two. That gave me the first hint of a seed for a new song. Mix in a little imagination and flights of fancy along with a dollop or reality and coming back to earth, and you have the piece I finished up last Friday.

The Life She Wrote

She sits up late at night and plays on her guitar
While everyone is fast asleep
Trying to strike a chord between her life and dreams
A private piece that she can keep

She sometimes dreams of how it feels to be a star
Even though she knows she’ll never get that far
Late at night, she hears her dreams within her guitar’s sound
Even as her feet are planted firmly on the ground

In her dreams, she’s playing on that Grand Ole Opry stage
Her fingers fly across the strings, the notes dance off the page
In her mind, she sees the people hang on every note
And then she wakes up from the life she dreamed
Back to the life she wrote

So many nights she sits and listens to old songs
They were her mama’s legacy
Sometimes she’ll play along on her beat-up guitar
And for a moment she is free

She sometimes wonders what it’s like beneath the lights
Instead of singing to herself most nights
She dreams she hears the crowd applaud her every word
Even though she knows hers is a voice no one has heard

In her dreams, she’s playing on that Grand Ole Opry stage
Her fingers fly across the strings, the notes dance off the page
In her mind, she sees the people hang on every note
And then she wakes up from the life she dreamed
Back to the life she wrote

There are times she’s sure she could have made it if she’d tried
But that required and inner strength she didn’t have inside
Now when she looks back, she swears there’s no regret
Still, there’s something ’bout this dream that she cannot forget

In her dreams, she’s playing on that Grand Ole Opry stage
Her fingers fly across the strings, the notes dance off the page
In her mind, she sees the people hang on every note
And then she wakes up from the life she dreamed
Back to the life she wrote

© 2015 Walt Huntsman. All rights reserved.

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