the woman knows me inside out...

Ann Weems
Presbyterian poet.

The woman knows me inside out.

She writes.
I listen.

Heavenly Nightmare

It is my recurring nightmare
that heaven will be organized,
that some Martha will get there
before I do and will be happily
buzzing about straightening clouds,
ironing angels' gowns,
starching wing tips,
buffing stars,
and getting ready for the big hymn sing in the sky.
The nightmare is over
before anyone calls a meeting and
asks me to take minutes.
I'm filled with eternal gratitude...

Oh, I can organize.
I live with schedules most weeks...
but in between the schedules
I wander and wonder and dream.

In between the bill paying and check balancing
(I've learned I can do both)
I sing and dance and yes, dream.

In between the responsibilities and TASKS...
I play and laugh and yes, dream.

Heaven better have room for dreamers....
because in the current reality dreamers
aren't always understood or appreciated.

I'm thankful dream appreciation
where I currently live and serve.
It gives me space to breathe
and
dream
a bit more.