This small space we occupy in time
Is moored in dreams.
Like a tree planted and nurtured near the
Waters edge…there,
Bridges ford the troubled waters of our souls
While lives marred with stumbling
Stones, march on
And time, measured in footsteps,
Leads into places of abundant unknowing.
Somewhere a bird sings, a tree buds,
The spirit moves
As fast as the winds racing through an open field…
A garden takes root
And an irreconcilable beauty stirs within.
GOD in her infinite wisdom waits
The dream seed.
The sacred birth so ripe with promise
It cannot contain one single place or purpose
Sanctified solely for us. . .it is
In this commUnity of trust
That we are healed, forgiven,
Whole/again.