Beautiful Dreamers, poetry by Prince A. McNally at

Beautiful Dreamers

Beautiful Dreamers

written by: Prince A. McNally



I remember as a child,
spending summer nights
in the lovely countryside
of Burgaw, North Carolina;
my friends & I, would lay for hours
beneath the blanket of the warm, glistening sky,
amidst the nocturnal chatter of chirping frogs & singing
crickets; we counted the constellations with starry eyes
& anxious spirits.

We may have just been children, but the moment
we dove into our dreams, we became something special,
something beautiful; we became beautiful dreamers,
slowly transforming / from caterpillars to butterflies; forward-
thinkers & shapers of a bold / & exciting new world.

Oh, how we yearned to fly / wrapping our minds
around hypothetical scenarios / stretching our vivid
imaginations with immaculate wings / lifting us to flight.

So serenely we soared / slicing through
the cutting wind / with the precision of a falcon
& the passion/ of an eagle.

Rising to the propitious occasion,
the air, rushed hurriedly / to our lungs; causing
the oxygen to race / rapidly through our veins
with the burning desire / of hungry flames.

We could barely catch our breath; for with
each passing moment / we climbed higher & higher
towards the welcoming stars, until we could literally taste
the sweet freedom / of immortality / exhaling gravity’s
hold upon our restless souls / singing “Glory Hallelujah!”
As we boldly stroked / the sky-blue horizon / with the tips
of our virtuous tongues.

We earnestly scribed / of rhyme & reason; for there’s
a reason why we’re here / as there’s a season
when we must all transition / back to the essence, & begin…. again.

Through the trials of life / & vigorous application,
I have come to learn / that wisdom often speaks
with a silent tongue; for one’s journey through this life
can be celestially blessed, brushed by the sweeping hands of grace
& yet, this life-can also be quite cruel & staggering.
And though, we may endeavor / to live forever,
the cycle of life shall always prevail.

With a heavy heart / she bears the offering of rain, pouring libations
to those who have fallen- while time / moves ever swiftly / with the impatience of youth
towards no particular goal / other than the constant / of perpetual-motion.
And thus / time greets us / in each & every moment / bearing a child-like grin
eagerly relishing / the coming / of tomorrows
… unknowing.

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