Reckless Dreams

The optimists dreamt of touching the sky,

Built silver birds so man could fly.

They soared with hope, they chased the light,

Believing always they'd reach new heights.

But down below, with measured hands,

The pessimists studied where dreams could land.

They wove the cords, they stitched the seams,

They questioned heights and reckless dreams.

For where the bold would dare to leap,

The cautious minds had sewn them deep.

A thread of doubt, a whispered fear,

A silent hand to catch them near.

So up they rose, the fearless few,

Jumping into the endless blue.

And when they fell, as dreamers do,

The careful hands had seen them through.

The world needs both—the fall, the flight,

The daring day, the watchful night.

For what is courage without the fear?

And what is hope if risk’s not near?