The author Steven Coonts once said that a young person should never whittle down dreams to fit into his or her hometown.
True for cancer, as well.
Dreams carry your heart into the future, and having given up on mine, I can now understand that its being a future you'll never see in this life is irrelevant.
The point is that when you keep the dream alive, you're already there.
When you let it die, the best part of you dies with it, and God weeps, for the killing of even an impossible hope is the biggest betrayal of His love.
Where, now, do I go from here,
when all's been left too late,
and circumstances make it clear
that my job's just to wait
for that fell knock on the door,
a cold hand on my shoulder;
I always thought there would be more.
I thought I might grow older.
I've fallen now to little things,
in hope of self-respect,
while shadows cover spreading wings
in dust of sad neglect,
and sometimes I wonder why
I have lost the will to try.
The Five Minute Friday prompt this week is GUESS. I guess I can do this.
Dude, I did not think I'd guess
so long ago, in glory days
that life would become a mess
and dreams would vanish in a haze
of pain and puke and things far worse
(humiliation in the dunny),
and that I must not choose to curse
the Lord my God, though it be funny
that I am felled from higher places
in which the learned looked up to me,
but in falling I've found graces
and a kind of victory
in smiling when most would blaspheme,
and, in smiling, live the dream.
Three minutes, and I'll stand by it
Music from ELO, with Hold On Tight.
Sylvia is delighted to share her Ice Cream Dream.