Friend

There are times that I
Fear that I
Am lost in a dream.
Then fear turns to calm
I rise above looking at the storm
That has been my life
From God’s own Eye,
Or a friend in the sky,
I see that I journey
Toward a horizon clear,
Not anywhere near.
Like a snail in the desert
Crossing the flats,
I see no end,
And so I dream.
I rise above,
Losing myself,
Finding the end,
Smiling, knowing.
Like a dear old friend,
Encouraging, promising,
“carry on”, she says,
again and again.
I trust my friend.
She sees the end.