In a dream, I stood at the edge of a wide
and far reaching field
of wheat coloured grasses.
A girl of five years
stood quietly at my side—
her brown hair let down
nearly to her waist. We both wore
white cotton summer dresses
and smiled excitedly
at the horizon laid out before us.
The dampened earth was
only just beginning to dry
as the sun above slowly stepped
out from behind a curtain
of grey clouds, which parted across
an expanse of blue sky.
I sensed your presence behind us
and turned to find you across the way
in the shade of a roadside diner’s porch.
Your hands were in your pockets
and, though I could not make out your
face, your countenance was of a resolute
calm and tenderness.
I smiled at you, nodding my head in the
direction of the field. Laughing, I
leaned over to ask the little girl
if she wanted to run with me.
Her face lit with joy
as she jumped up and down,
yelling, “Yes! Yes!”
We took off our shoes and looked to
each other one more time as we darted into
the field with our hair and peals
of laughter trailing behind us.
The wet grasses brushed against our
bare legs as we lept into the air like
ballerinas. As we twirled and danced,
the softened earth squished between our toes.
Under the heavens laid out above us,
we lifted our voices to sing and
raised our hands, giving thanks to the
Lord our God.
Now, echoes of that dream linger,
imprinted on my heart—
the sound of our laughter,
the grasses brushing against us,
the earth squishing between our toes,
and the soft thudding of your shoes
as you made your way to us—