the make-believe tree

I stood by the boughs of the make-believe tree,

‘til it asked what it was, that I longed to be.

I imagined a me, all shining and new.

A version of me, only I can make true.

Splenderous, NO, bright!

And cloaked in light!

No, tall and majestic, as i’ve longed to be.

Just like the branches of the make-believe tree.

Or firm,

like a stone ‘gainst the sea?

Or magnetic. No, chosen!

like the me that I’ve dreamt to be…

A life I’d written for me.

Abundance on tap, like books said it would be?

If I believe, then my mantras are true.

The life I deserve, not the one I endure.

I asked “is this real?” of the make-believe tree.

“Will it be mine, can you see i’ve believed?”

I shouted out loud to it’s papery leaves.

“Which you is it,” whispered leaves back to me,

“…that you’re asking to be?”

I heard the promise,

all my dreams coming true.

Versions i’d dreamt,

only I can make true.

“I’ll be the me I’ve always imagined for me”,

“abundance and fame and the friendships I’ve seen”.

I’ll belong, and be loved, and the best at my craft,

admired, desired, and wanted at last.

The luck and abundance I’ve asked for, each day.

The fortune foretold, now on its way.

So that’s what I wish for, no more and no less.

And, a dress to impress.

And a voice that might also buckle the knees,

of anyone worthy to look upon me.

But thats all i need,

I don’t ask for much,

not care, or comfort,

or trivial stuff.

“Is that what you want?”, came words on the breeze,

“Yes!” I yelled at my make-believe tree.

“Then so you shall be” echoed paper and glue,

and newsprint and string, and wire woven through.

And then nothing. Just wind

through cardboard boughs,

and paper twisted,

in forgotten hours,

I stood near the boughs of my make-believe tree,

I shouted again to ensure it had seen,

“Is that it? Will I be as I’d designed as my path”

“Will everything be as I planned and have asked?”

And there by the boughs of a tree that i’d made.

A project in line with a life to be made.

I waited to see if I’d finally be…

But all that was left was a make-believe me.