As brook-water swims gently over rocks worn smooth by time, and gentle breeze serenades the myriad variety of trees of ancient roots, I lay me down on the side of lush green hillock and dream. . . I dream in this paradisiacal land in which there is no need or greed, and where generous hands gladly the hungry feed.
In this land, bands of farmers sow their seed here and there in rich, rolling fields, where yields are an hundred-fold in sun-wheat gold to be sold at fair price in quaint open markets, where people gladly meet and greet one another in contagious smiles with genuine, good-natured laughter in converse as free-flowing as the stream by which I lie.
Here in this land children walk hand-in-hand — there to play, here to stay for fun begun — and there is no fear, no want, no alarm or taunt; where folks are fair and never dare to tear apart what love has profoundly bound heart to heart, and where above angels astound in celestial sound for those here below where charity flows atop and below.
In this land to which I retreat, the nymphs sing, too, and dance and prance, and sprits delight in the night brightly-lit, especially when the soft and soothing rains pass to quench the thirst of mother earth. And here, too, is where I meet you, my fairest soul companion and lover, where never one word need be spoken in token to our communion. And I rest and say, ‘Yes, there is a land … there is such a land.’
Note: Based on my poem, “There is a Land,” published in August 2015