Learning to Fly

Well it started out
Down a dirty road.
Started out
All alone.

And the sun went down
As I crossed the hill.
And the town lit up,
And the world got still.

Well the good ol' days
May not return.
And the rocks might melt,
And the sea may burn.

Well some say life
Will beat you down,
And break your heart,
Steal your crown.

So it started out
For God-knows-where.
I guess I'll know
When I get there.

I'm learning to fly
But I ain't got wings.
Comin' down
Is the hardest thing.

I'm learnin' to fly
Around the clouds.
But what goes up
Must come down.

I'm learnin' to fly.
I'm learnin' to fly.

Tom Petty
We had a dream. Each and every one of us had but one dream, one goal. To wear those Navy wings of gold, that was our goal, our dream. Yes, to wear gold bars and be saluted was part of that dream but only a part, a small part. It was the dream of wearing gold wings on one's chest that drove us. We were told by older, more experienced dreamers, "Don't sweat the program." But we sweated. We sweated because we worked hard. And we worked hard because we so wanted that dream to come true.  We were young lions in a strange land. We had to adapt or fail. Some adapted, some did not. But we all had the rare opportunity to look into ourselves and to know what was there.
Dreams

The stuff of dreams was never bought
with rusty coins of inconstant thought
nor with fear of failure overwrought.

The stage was set for we who had a dream
of golden wings, our peer's esteem,
misty islands in reality's stream.

Striving by day - recharging by night -
shunning all that fails to excite,
eager to compete in dawn's pale light.

Our dreams were cloaked in hope's attire,
soaked in the sweat of each day's desire,
never to hear failure's cruel choir.

We embraced illusion, not the fact,
and slept in the bed of the abstract,
never to admit what might be lacked.

For some, their dreams were scantily dressed,
but there were those of us so well blessed
who donned the golden robes of success.

John Newlin
The Circle Game

Yesterday a child came out to wonder
Caught a dragonfly inside a jar
Fearful when the sky was full of thunder
And tearful at the falling of a star
Then the child moved ten times round the seasons
Skated over ten clear frozen streams
Words like, when you're older, must appease him
And promises of someday make his dreams
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and dawn
Were captive on the carousel of time
We cant return we con only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game.

Sixteen springs and sixteen summers gone now
Cartwheels turn to car wheels thru the town
And they tell him,
Take your time, it wont be long now
Till you drag your feet to slow the circles down
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and dawn
Were captive on the carousel of time
We cant return we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game

So the years spin by and now the boy is twenty
Though his dreams have lost some grandeur coming true
There'll be new dreams, maybe better dreams and plenty
Before the last revolving year is through.
And the seasons they go round and round
And the painted ponies go up and down
Were captive on the carousel of time
We cant return, we can only look behind
From where we came
And go round and round and round
In the circle game.

Joni Mitchell