I loved watching all the colors
As they shifted through the day:
Sometimes gloomy, sometimes brilliant,
All spectacular in their own way.
And I couldn’t hold out much longer,
Had to go, enjoy the sun,
So I took my little sister
In the pram—and oh what fun!
She held on, small fists grasping
To the edges of her seat,
Small eyes seeking out the different
Points of interest we did meet.
We saw waving maple branches,
Heard the rushing of the creek,
Wandered past the hills of gravel,
Stared at all the cows and sheep.
It was glorious in the sunshine,
Though the wind was slightly cold,
But the moments spent together
Flitted past on wings of gold.
Then the home stretch soon we wandered,
Looking forward to a treat,
Baby snuggled in her blankets
Me? I had to use my feet.
“Ho!” A neighbor spied us, greeting,
“How are you on this fine day?”
“Doing well!” My part returning,
“I’m so glad the sky’s not gray!”
“I am too,” was his rejoinder,
As he worked to clear some leaves,
“And,” he wondered, slightly bending,
“Are you living out your dreams?”
What a question to ask a stranger!
I paused then to think it through.
“Yes I am,” I called back to him,
Thankful, realizing I do.
It was odd, I mused later,
As we bumped along the street,
The kinds of questions you can put to
A mere stranger that you meet.
But—’tis true, I knew with wonder
As we turned and saw our lane,
Though my life may not be perfect,
That doesn’t make the truth less plain.
I am living out my dream now—
Yes, though it may not seem much.
Where’re Christ leads, ’tis all and more
Than any dream that I could clutch.
I may wish for greater riches,
Or for people I count dear,
But the greatest dream of all
Is one I hold—already here.
I have Jesus; He is much more
Than any momentary dream,
And in walking, trusting, holding,
He’s the one that makes me sing.
This poem is almost exactly the way it happened last Friday on a walk with my youngest sister, aside from the fact that the conversation with the neighbor was only a “hello!” and his question about if I’m living out my dream. When I got home, I was inspired to turn the incident into poetry.
