Dreams like rocks: hard to carry, but tangible and good for building foundations.

The dream might be about a family that will love you as their own, a youth that will settle for nothing less than justice, or a few people that will work for a better world in such a way that it shakes the very fabric of a community. Dreams might be heavy like rocks, but they are never too heavy to carry, and they are always going to be useful, wherever you take them. Dreams have been the objects of every war and the inspirations for every peace. Dreams can’t always be thought as clearly as they are felt.

A small child found a dream between the cracks in the side walk, the ones so small that only his fingers could reach in to pluck it out. He planted it deep into his palm and clasped it close to his heart waiting for it to sprout. When it did he took his new found treasure and pressed it between my outstretched hands, gently closing my fingers around it, and asked me to take care of it. He told me I would have to find the perfect soil to plant it in, water it every day, tend to its growth, protects its fruit, and collect its seeds. Then he said that I would succeed in this, and from the tree would come so many seeds that every child on earth could have one, and that was worth a thousand new found treasures.