Sweetest dreams...

With baited breath and a hope that yearns
Beyond capped mountains, where the future turns
Are thoughts and wishes, truths and verse
A past full of wrought, lessons or a curse?
With a clank and an echo, like a pebble in a stein
It all seems so hollow, but it's solid and mine
Such a little piece left from something so grand
I struggle to keep hold within the grip of my hand
For an eye to see the first thought would be "need"
But even the tallest tree...was grown from a seed