Where the Colors Run by Carolyn Northerland

The sky is as black as I dreamt it was;
There is no light shining from the street.
The rain I hear patters like applause,
And the hail creates a steady beat.

But in my dream I was woken from sleep
To see the colors stream through the sky
Towards the East where the sun would creep
And end the fantasy, by and by.

Still every night I look up above
In hopes of seeing that wondrous light
Fly by again with grace like a dove,
To end my fantasy-seeking plight.

I know it's real, and I'll see it again.
I don't know when but I'll still hang on
'Til I meet my dreams and see the men
Who hang the stars where the colors run.

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