Tiger Dreams

Give me something.

Bleu, vert, orange, jaune, marron, rouge.

G#dim, or F#m with A#.

Or some messed up rhythm.

Tiger and dragon dreams every night.


Cherry wheels, out of breath, chest hurting

and sweat when you arrive to take your seat.


Flipping pages that aren’t good enough for words

so the words flow out of the pages, and overflows.

Like a river out of a small sink, the letters flow out.


You’re more ambitious and excited than ever

to create a huge bronze, or golden statue of yourself.

Hopefully you can put a flag on that huge statue that lists how many times you’ve failed.


So you use knives and carve new words into your heart.




Those that once looked like giants that could overshadow you,

somehow you found yourself catching your voice from the grey skies,

and before you knew, you were confronting and shouting over them and turning the skies blue and clearer.


Once upon a million years, there were red lines, and boundaries that were drawn

and fear made your feet too heavy to walk across, because the greatest fear was gossip.

Then somehow something happened, I don’t know where or when,

maybe the tiger dreams or the demands from work that expected you to be better than where you were.  Or maybe even the swipe rights and lefts, that felt like games.

Made the red line, the boundaries, more inviting to cross.

Made gossip about you more appealing because it meant you were moving out of your comfort zone.


So the best things were the boats that came in and went out,

and the coral reefs, and the colourful fish, and even the salty taste that went through your nose that made your head hurt.

The rocks, the slippery stones, the sharp corals on the sand that made you feel more determined to walk bare feet.

The feeling of the sea in and around you like you’ve never felt before.


So then you walk down a place of faceless people, and you smile without knowing,

because you’ve just spent twenty minutes asking God for grace.

Walk into the office and call your first client and how nervous you were, suddenly becomes the bigger thing than pigeons talking to themselves in the walls behind you.


Find yourself praying for peace in Israel,

and crossing your fingers when you watch rugby on Friday nights.


I won’t ask how, because I’m so grateful and happy.

I love my life, and the leaves on the trees outside the window.


And love my mum, (love my dad too).

And would like my dad to please believe that I will be better this time,

even though that’s what I say every time.

Well, dad, at least I’ve improved on piano and guitar.


Tiger dreams every night before I fall asleep.

If it’s not tigers, and prides of lions even, then it would be dragons that fly in the sky.

Sometimes white dragons, sometimes blue dragons, very rarely red ones.

Eagles on my devices, but I have no idea why, lions, and dragons,

and tiger dreams every night.



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