here in the muddle of tired and busy days
i can feel dreams and reality collide
it is a sad sound,
striving to steal all hope and joy
a fool i would be to let it!
for true life has the greater beauty
by which painless dreams pale to compare.
for a joy devoid of all meaning
soon retreats before boredom's onset
and a hope that never proves true
was naught but empty longing.
and how much darker, then,
is pain or fear in our fantasies.
but in the realm of real things,
even a pain, having either purpose or end,
may be found beautiful in the end.
and fear can vanish in the light of time.
how much greater, then,
is a meaningful joy and a sure hope!
so i will believe that a dream lost
is truly no loss at all,
and every dream found true
is counted as sweet surprise.
the Lord is on His throne;
i'll fear not the unfolding of days,
tired and busy though they be.