I had a dream
the other night,
I was entering
a room,
I stood upon
its threshold,
It was quiet
as a tomb.
It was large
and filled with crosses,
Like the one,
on which Christ died,
Some stood
alone, erect and tall,
Others stacked
or tilted on a side.
They seemed
to be in different sizes,
Shorter, taller,
broader, too,
Each was decorated,
A few with
different hues.
Some crosses,
wreathed in garlands,
Others, hand
carved in solid Teak,
Some, cast
in almost pure gold,
Each cross
- a cross unique.
I looked around,
as I stood in awe,
And inhaled
a strange perfume,
I saw a sea
of crosses,
In this most
amazing room.
I had brought
my own cross with me,
It was small
and unadorned,
Its plainness
was wearisome and dull,
It was old
and toil-worn.
So I laid it
down upon the floor,
Other crosses
made me curious,
I spotted
one with bold design,
Intriguing
and mysterious.
With its promise
of adventure,
It was enticing
and inviting,
I carried
it a mere two steps,
But found
it too exciting.
I had to put
it back in place,
I became entangled
and confused,
Too much for
me to handle,
Not right
for me to use.
Then I saw
a cross with jewels,
Almost too
dazzling to see,
Diamonds,
rubies, emeralds,
Oh, that's
the cross for me.
It smelled
of means and money,
And represented
countless wealth,
I'd feel so
fine, if it were mine,
I picked it
up and held it to myself.
But I staggered
underneath its load,
It near crushed
me with its weight,
No, this cross
I could not carry,
It was a burden
far too great.
Next, in my
dream, I saw a cross,
Of such beauty
I'd not known,
I'd never
seen so many roses,
So red - so
lush - full-blown.
Glorious -
awesome - it stole my breath,
I rushed to
grab it with both hands,
But, in horror,
I jumped back,
I bled.
I did not understand.
I did not know
beneath those blossoms,
Lurked sharp
and piercing thorns,
How could
I manage such a cross,
So deceptively
adorned?
I wiped the
blood from my poor hands,
Tears were
misting in my eyes,
Then I spied
my cross still on the floor,
Where I had
dropped it from my side.
So small -
so unpretentious,
So plain,
and dull, and worn,
It was just
my size - a perfect fit,
It was comfortable
and warm.
I gently picked
it up,
And pressed
it to my breast,
This cross
was mine; I knew it well,
And I could
bear this cross the best.
I awakened
then; my dream was done,
My day was
ready for its start,
The morning
sun crept through my window,
Peace and
acceptance filled my heart.
Virginia (Ginny)
Ellis
(copyright
2000, used with permission)
Ginny's
Place
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