There is a hesitation in seeing a dream to fruition,
its flesh rendered and made living.
Susceptible now
to the harshness reality imposes
where it was once unmarred and beautiful,
in your head

It must weather real storms
and unseen shoals
to become real—
each tear through the hull can
not be enough
to sink it.

It must prevail through the
depths of failure,
through every whisper of your
own maddened mind
pleading you, to stop.

And though your imagination
will lend wave after wave
of all the disastrous ways in which
it may become dead in the water,
never to rise again

you must set sail anyway