Animation poem

It’s the kind of night that wakes your dreams-
The wind is the key that rips at your seams-
To expose all below that’s been buried by fear and stifled and drowned by the weight of your tears-

It’s the kind of night when losses are counted-
By all old enough their days have amounted-
To piles marked “failure” or “good day” or “bad” and largest of all is the dreams that they’ve had-

So blow on wind, you’re no foe of mine-
And blow on clouds; you know I’ll be just fine-
And sing on stars; I’ll sing right along with you-
Until, the sun comes up-

It’s the kind of breeze that moves you along-
From memory to memory and writes its own song-
Complete with a solo by moon, clouds, and stars-
And truly transports you to a place very far-

So blow on wind, you’re no foe of mine-
And blow on clouds; you know I’ll be just fine-
And sing on stars; I’ll sing right along with you-
Until, the sun comes up-