The Boy That Dreamed For Me

I watched a boy walking dreamingly in the rain yesterday, and my thoughts were drawn to the boyhood of the Crucified One.

The Boy That Dreamed For Me

He came,
came into this dark and dreamless world.
He came,
and, coming, grew to be a boy,
a boy among boys to play and learn,
though He is Lord of all.

He came,
and as a boy He learned and dreamed,
dreamed perhaps of things that He had made,
and things that he would bring to be,
and perhaps He dreamed of eternity.

He came.
He dreamed,
for boys are always filled with dreams,
and dreams give life to boyish play,
and teach the boyish mind to learn,
to grow in wisdom as the body grows,
to learn to be what every boy is called to be:
a man.

He came.
He dreamed.
He left behind the power that is His by right,
and grew, and dreamed, and grew and dreamed,
and did He dream perhaps of nails?
of blood and pain and death and death's dark grave?
of jeers of soldiers and of demons deep in Hell?
and did He dream of my deep sin?
did He see my face and know the price he'd pay for me?

He came.
He dreamed,
and, dreaming, maybe came to know,
as a boy who would become a man,
the things that He as God had known,
and in His boyish dreaming maybe pierced the veil,
and knew,
and saw what boys should never need to see,
and stretched His hands to do His Father's work,

and came,
and dreamed, that everlasting holy Boy,
and dreamed a death He died for me.

------------------------------------------------ed pacht