Dreams of the Bay

San Francisco

When reminiscing of San Francisco, I think of…

Uncharted waters, vivid and crisp
Dreaming through a facade in the mist of amber’s rain.
Untapped opportunity, thriving from the branches of father time.

Leaves of change spring boldly forward,
a pondering eye seeks adventure;
throwing qualms to the sun.
Sealed with a kiss, destination still unknown.
Standing between the gateway of fate,
and realities doors,
for what will be, will be, free.

As I wonder back,
to the view of current waves
crashing against jagged edges of mountains
fading vaguely into the vast horizon.
Climbing stairs directly leading to heaven’s pearly doors.
Mist of sprinkling water subsides on my skin;
delicately falling, like tiny droplets of tears-soothing the cowardly soul.

Smelling the fishy musk air, encircling me, taking the very breath I breathe.
As carefree attitudes transform fear and worries into joyful-beauty.
A home found, a special place re-born.
Shadows of time rested here, delaying adversities sequel.
Only figures of twirling gentle strands of curls are welcoming
to this delightful sight, this ever so charming dawn.

Once back, the hustle and bustle
of screaming voices and untamed horns,
lures me into the everlasting dreary abyss.
I stand looking at the world differently,
dazed by the scene

As others look on suspiciously
displeased with prying eyes.
Passing judgments of reflections from moments passed,
swirling around the unforgiving cycle of life.

For I came back different as they viewed me unaltered,
because they themselves were filtered.
Inhibited by unchanged circumstances, and roaming thoughts…
as stale as 2 month old Italian bread laying on a counter,
where rays of warm beams brighten a room angelically.

Given just a small glimpse of a euphoric atmosphere,
a surrendering to peace.
But soon after the darkness sets and coldness creeps,
as if in a blink of an eye.
Their impressions of distrust and cacophony
pierces my spirit sharper than thorns,
deflating the heart.

But when I ponder the shores of poetic dreams,
giggling children, running wild
playing inches from the majestic oceanic view.

I stand in awe,
amused, wide eyed as a child…
guided by a seductive lucid moon.

more by GOLDIE D. LOPEZ

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