Dream of:

Getting rid of the bad guys. You left a few when you were 10 years old.

Good. Good marriages, good wine, good vacations, good music, good lovemaking, good adventures, good conversation.

Making what’s never been made, singing what’s not been sung, writing what’s never been written, saying what’s not been said.

Triple-dip, double-chocolate-chip ice cream.

Running into the wind, of oceans that never end, of being young again.

Flying. On your own, with wings for arms, soaring through the clouds unafraid.

The first vine-ripened tomato.

Like a 6-year-old, whose imagination has yet to be fenced by the barbed wire of reality.

Being thin.

Saving the world. One day you may be called to do just that.

No more tears, death or pain. It is written somewhere, for I have read it myself.

Two hundred point Scrabble words.

Such kiss that carries you to distant shores. Then another. Then….

Slaying that dragon in your life whose appetite will not be satisfied.

Writing the perfect column.

Perpetual dreaming, for what other creature, amongst all others, is given such privilege?