By Rodika Tollefson
Member-at-large
Someday I will dance in the streets of Paris.
I will gaze into Mona Lisa’s eyes
I’ll sip French wine on a terrace
And drink in the gorgeous blue skies
Someday I will create my masterpiece.
It will be the work of a genius, a modern-day Matisse
I will move to a fancy new chateau
And walk in the footsteps of van Gogh
Someday I will be a legend.
I will be a game-changer
The world will know my name…
Or maybe I’ll just buy an island — and enjoy quiet life just the same
Someday I will retire to Fiji and write a memoir.
I’ll drink strawberry margaritas on the beach
I will learn to play the acoustic guitar
And finally give that keynote speech
Someday I will get my PhD. Write a novel. Learn to waterski.
Tour Europe. Make a movie. Get a tattoo. Write a bestseller.
Drive on Route 66. Learn Italian. Go blonde. Skydive.
Someday. But not today.
Today I will dash from one meeting, commitment and emergency to the next
One deadline away from a mental earthquake
I will tell the soul to be quiet, stay in hiding. Stop dreaming. Duty calls
Except I have so many somedays
Perhaps more somedays than actual days
I watch the somedays slip through my fingers into the oblivion of time
Like grains of sand through the hourglass
But what if someday is today?
What if I am a brilliant artist who can paint a new reality, a new me?
What if I don’t need Paris, Fiji, or a dreamy island?
What if all I need are new brushes to set the somedays free?