I dreamed about a road
Carved through the chest of a hill
Connecting an isolated neighborhood
To the bridge across a small river
I dreamed about colorful buses
Running through that steep road
To the courtyard of the church atop the hill
While walking through that small path
In which hardly a person can walk
Now vehicles ply over a road
Just as I dreamed as a child
There are no taxes to dream
If it comes true, it isn’t a miracle
It’s destiny!
Images thanks to Google.
