When We Were Little

Sometimes I wish that we could return to the days when we were little. We use to lie on our backs in the grass, the four of us; chewing on sour weeds, watching the clouds change forms from flowers to faces, until the airplanes disfigured them. We sent all our dreams up to God, where He hid them away from everyone except us. We were simple then; when we were little. Even now, you and I sometimes lie on our backs. Waiting patiently on God, as our dreams are redistributed. Wrinkled and worn with age, we uncrumble them. Still legible, we smooth them out and share them with one another. But, they sound silly now. Probably because we're aware that He'd already fulfilled them ... long ago, back when we were little.