We all have a dream–something that puts a spring in our steps and a gleam in our eyes. Dreams are those wonderful things as filmy as a spider’s web, as substantial as moonbeams, somewhere ahead of us, calling to us to follow, to pursue, to hope, to reach. We can spin dreams of the straw of everyday happenings and turn them into gold, like Rapunzel. Dreams are those things we reach for and, if we are blessed, we grab them and turn them into reality.
Do we ever grow too old to dream? I think not. Dreams may change with the years, or a single, burning dream may be lasting, a hope that stays with us forever.
Dreams have no substance; they are intangible, but to the dreamer, they are as real as a heartbeat. A precious dream is like an invisible friend–encouraging us not to give up or quit but always, always to follow.
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