Hold fast to dreams
for if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.
Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
Mystery is what happens to us when we
allow life to evolve rather than having to
make it happen all the time...There is
something holy-making about simply
presuming that what happens to us in
any given day is sent to awaken our souls
to something new: another smell, a
different taste, a moment when we allow
ourselves to lock eyes with a stranger, to
smile a bit, to nod our heads in
greeting.
~ from THE GIFT OF YEARS by Joan Chittister