Dreamed 1993/1/7 by Chris Wayan
When Picard was young, on Martinique
Tramp freighters swam by: rusty swans
He longed to command: to stand,
Boy on the bridge, in turquoise wind.
Strange angels heard that inner prayer:
Time-bound swimmers of dimensional air
Who chartered him a greater ship
Than boy ever dreamed.
But his star-voyages were just
the keystone in the arc.
A sixty-year climb to that ship;
As adult dreams ripen, sixty more.
Legs wilted, in a gravity chair,
Jean-Luc Picard still smiles:
A sage with feral eyes.
He lived long and prospered,
For the trumpet couldn't call.
Picard had to climb
That sprawling arch of time:
For the boy wished so much,
And angels must grant all.
This poem is half of an experiment--a single dream told in different forms: poetry and prose.
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