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I am living Reverend King’s dream and as such, I am inspired to dream.
I have a dream. It is a dream inspired by King before I was born, and now charged with my own spirit. It is a dream that I can continue his dream and help create an even more open world for my daughter and the children of her generation.
It is a dream that one day my daughter’s spirit will know the freedom of a world in which her dreams are not seen as unusual or lofty because of a trait she has no control over. Where she is not just a trailblazer but a member of an expanding team.
I dream of a world where her mere presence is not more inspiring than the deeds she’s done. Where her uniqueness does not cause others to prejudge her capabilities, dreams and ambitions. Where she is accepted…
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Sun kisses this small hollow, picture being oblique.
Hue dances shades of yellow, piercing the Batik.
Vision shared within photo, wax dyed metaphysic.
Promise made for a fellow, orange you Fantastique.
The skier on the mountain slope, criss-crossing on his way,
The speed of the skier was passed, by a strange looking sleigh.
Winding round the trail ahead, with eyes on nearby trees,
The speedster leaned with accuracy, avoiding obstacles with ease.
Touch this snowy lane to continue reading, please ;D
The sun filtering downward, rays streaming through the trees.
While slowly walking southward, could feel the soft cool breeze.
Poem By Randal Vincent Berke
Thick white snow covers the front juniper trees.
Always thinking about the ones who made these.
This blanket was made by my Grandmother ~ Rose Kobley
Before starting she asked me what colours I liked.
I said any colours you choose.
A R T O U R W A Y . C O M
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