My Hidden Closet

Among best hidden there is a closet,
no rosewood no shiney metal in make,
opens to no key and no locking ratchet
compromising safety and making fake.

Some dreams are kept, some woven fine,
some prayers are kept, some written long,
I clean them more to see them in their shine
and to prune away all what hidden wrong.

All my years, the more colorful of them,
like what a pebble picker seeks in pebbles
and then what is done after choosing them,
I took in so many and saved like bubbles.

Some recent moons the colors are fading,
and bubbles are weighing like pebbles too.
Wishing, with them could do some trading,
in reluctance, I see most slipping through.

No dream I hold and not my prayers long,
My closet has just to keep these two scrolls,
the one that prays keeping its keeper strong,
and the one that holds promises taking falls  .