Seed of a Dream
by Rebecca Weber
It was not really this we dreamed of, long
Ago, though at that time we thought it was.
But how could we have dreamed the hidden laws
That undergird this; or the wonder songs
That overarch it? Was this truth too strong
A light, to leave the eyes of dream a pause
In depths or heights beyond the one bright cause?
And yet, who is to say the dream was wrong?
That imperfected vision caught a gleam
Of this reality that we now know.
What though “the things that are” forever seem
Undreamt when dreams bloom fast and root so slow—
Is it not better to have had a dream
That shapes at least the form of what will grow?
Rebecca Weber is delighted to be a daughter of the King. She assumes her Swiss ancestors were weavers of cloth, but she is content to be a Nova Scotian weaver of words and a teacher, explorer, poet, dreamer, photographer, people person. She blogs at journeyintohislight.wordpress.com.
Photography by Kenneth Godoy