How is it that my soul longs for something of which I cannot dream? Something inside senses that there's more, but for my dreams it's out of reach. I look in the wrong places? Sometimes I fear reality. There must be more. The Bible grounds me, keeps me in the present. But where is there room for dreaming? I'm afraid of overwhelming, never-ending practicality, and of dreaming and forgetting to live today. Does the process never end? It's always been out of grasp. Somehow, what is is never enough. I want more.

Of what?