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You tell me your dream, and I'll tell you mine.
These words have launched many a bond.
Trust that's perceived when these words are received,
have led to alliances fond.

Should you reminisce, recall pain or bliss,
and I should respond from the heart.
soon I'll wish to share, find like viewpoints there,
in each of our lives, see a part.

The day that we' re in, a blessing itself,
lived to the fullest, we share.
The future, unknown, lies wrapped on a shelf,
though imagination new things may bear.

As possibilities sift through our talk,
some bloom or strike welcome chords,
allowed then to flow, in our thought or walk,
add further or affirming words.

The dream that you share, then lifts in the air,
like smoke rings-- though now disapproved--,
the atmosphere rare, we find enriched there.
It's cherished a bit, nurtured, loved.

With dream talk exchanged our thoughts may have ranged,
to ideas with impetus drenched,
hope-filled, creative, sound, innovative,
free to adopt or defer, never quenched.

The message divine, when we will incline,
may often be bearing the start,
watered and warmed, in our consciousness formed,
what the Father promotes in our hearts.

04/12/2015 Carol Welch
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