Beyond Dream’s Edge
By Debbi Dickinson 
 
Four new children play tonight
in a land beyond dream’s edge.
Instead of sand, they play with stardust,
getting glitter sprinkles on their hands.

Instead of coloring books,
they color rainbows
for God to place in the sky,
His promise to us below.

Instead of jumping rope,
they jump strands of sunlight,
braided strong by His might,
forever shining bright.

Instead of riding bikes,
they spread their wings
and fly to distant stars,
as all the angels sing.

Instead of snow slopes,
they slide down moonbeams,
iridescent glowing streams,
landing in heavenly greens.

Instead of TV,
they watch sunrises, sunsets,
and all that transpires in between,
secure that God knows best.

Instead of playing ball,
they catch the stars
before they fall,
loving the wonder of it all.

Instead of bouncing on beds,
they bounce on clouds.
Their laughter echoes about,
just beyond dream’s edge.

We meet at night in prayer.
I quietly wait to see them there,
golden halos on their heads,
in a land beyond dream’s edge.