Wednesday, December 24, 2008


Are we the stuff that dreams are made of? In the heart there must be places for living and dead dreams. This thought started after reading Lorraine Hansberry's play A Raisin in the Sun. The key idea of the play is what happens to a person whose dreams grow more and more passionate--while his hopes of ever achieving those dreams grow dimmer each day. Thetitle comes from a poem by Langston Hughes.It asks:

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?"

In Proverbs 13:12, we read: "Hope deferred maketh the heart sick;but when the desire cometh, it is a tree of life."

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