Plans of Hope and a Future

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—

running, running.


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