Reaching I’ve always had the same two dreams . . . To find a four leaf clover And keep it as mine, And to see a falling star Shoot across the ebony sky. Dreams are not always reachable . . . I’ve never held a lucky clover in my hand, But I have seen other wonders Of this land . . . I’ve seen the ocean waves meet the sand, An eagle soaring with ease On an inconsistent breeze, The changing leaves On the maple trees . . . And late one night, beneath the Colorado sky, I saw my dream sail before my eyes. April 29, 1998