By Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
I was thinking about dreams a lot in January because one of our assignements for writing group was to write a Bucket List. You know- a list of 100 things to do before you die.
I'm trying to reconcile in my mind which dreams are okay to put on hold because it's not the season of my life for that and which dreams I need to work on, to nurture so they don't shrivel up and die.
There is an Indigo Girls song that has a line in it that goes "My dreams come in like needy children, tugging at my sleeve. I said I have no way of feeding you, so leave."
I feel that way so often.
Sometimes I feel like dreams or destiny or our life mission (or whatever you want to call it) is supposed to just sort of find you. It's not supposed to be so much work. It's not supposed to require so much struggle.
But I guess it's the struggle that makes it so fulfilling in the end.
So if my dreams aren't going to just fall in my lap-what exactly is it that I am supposed to be doing now to move them along?