Mrs. B.’s Dream

I got a call from Mrs. B. again today.
We talked and took some time to pray.
She really sounded quite depressed,
Her soul was filled with unrest.

The third time she called this week,
And for an hour we did speak,
Before she said she had that dream.
The one that wakes her with a scream.

She described her dream once more,
Just as she did each time before.
Quietly I listened until the end,
For Mrs. B. is my friend.

Her dream starts with her in a cloud,
And up ahead she sees a crowd.
But all the people are facing in.
They all seem to feel chagrin.

She walks through the crowd to the source,
To find the reason for such remorse.
There at the center in a state of woe,
Stands her mother that died years ago.

She then sees that her mother's arms hold,
An aborted boy that's not very old,
And her mother says before her dreams done,
"Why did you kill my little grandson?"
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AFS