To catch a falling star

Running blind, with the wind, against it, stumbling, falling. Chasing a dream, chasing many. Much has happened in between.
And when you do catch that flaming star, you wonder if that's what you really wanted. It looked so incandescent from a distance. It's just burning ash when you find it.
Oh, the business of dreamcatching. It's so tiringly futile.
It's like the puppy who chases the car down the street. When the car stops, the puppy doesn't quite know what to do.
Go boy, get that star. The world is waiting to applaud.