Late at night 

Looking through the windows 

of the second story bedroom, 

a couple hours after bedtime,

 

After reading her favorite books 

and saying her favorite prayers 

the cars passing by 

begin to look like constellations. 

 

Headlights flashing like shooting stars 

Like fairytale wishes 

And angel kisses 

 

Like everything coming together 

before it ever even started. 

 

She grew up a dreamer. 

Brights eyes 

and round face full of hope, 

 

The scribbles on her 

classroom desk 

composed a map to a place

where her heart would forever be full.

 

But the years passed 

the lines grew smudged 

Directions turned backwards 

Upside down 

Flipped around…

 

The world gets louder 

the longer you listen. 

And fear gets stronger 

until life is a prison, 

 

A never ending cycle of running 

from all that once gave you hope. 

 

There is no time left for dreaming 

when you have no time to rest. 

 

But one night, 

she looked through the windows 

of the second story bedroom 

Just before she felt 

her heart must fall silent. 

 

Just before her bones turned to dust 

and skin turned to paper... 

 

She caught a glimpse of the cars passing by 

And the headlights still looked like constellations. 

 

In her head 

She saw a flash of the scribbles and the squiggles

a little girl drew.

She saw all the dreams she wished 

upon headlights 

and shooting stars 

 

And she realized 

There is hope inside a memory. 

Inspiration within a reflection 

When you see 

a dreamer looking back at you 

 

Bright eyes 

And a round face 

Full of belief 

That there is always a place 

where your heart will forever be full 

 

And I will always have faith 

I will find it.