BACK TO THE SUMMERLAND
What matters not, now past and put away,
your welcoming brings on another scheme
and here you make your plan, you can not stay
much longer than it takes to build a dream.
In this, the place where beauty binds all things,
forgotten is each pain, you've ever known,
and here, the Green of life, it always sings,
of life to be, from where all love is grown.
Until you get it right, you shall return,
back to your Summerland, where you can grow,
into a life from which we never learn,
because of learning things we never know.
Your understanding is your final breath
And life begins in what we think is death.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet