Time to Dream

Dreams have died, vision passed away.

My hope is perished, light gives way

to darkness pervading the atmosphere.

A fog too heavy to lift,

A cloud filling this empty space here.

I cannot see, little do I hear.

Yet here do I hear, "It is time to dream."

Waking, sleeping, waking again.

The bland circumstance of life

calls to something more before.

Weariness the one consistent thing

amongst the commonplace, pushing

me on to what lies ahead.

I cannot see, little do I hear.

Yet here do I hear, "It is time to dream."

Sunken, collapsed, deflated, undone.

Broken, empty, dry, full of faith--

this is what I find myself to be.

The Father of the future

holds my hope firmly in His hands.

I cannot see, little do I hear.

Yet here do I hear, "It is time to dream."

Landlocked in a place not my own,

I wonder how long must Babylon

be home for me; must this my dwelling be?

Living with walls that surround,

constraint, limitation, confinement all around.

I cannot see, little do I hear.

Yet here do I hear, "It is time to dream."

Lift your eyes to heaven again,

behold the Lamb high above.

Fear not to fall down upon

the pierced and bloodied Palm of Love.

The holes therein declare at last:

'Tis time to see, My voice you hear;

My dear son, hear, "Dream My dream for you."