Imagine
everyday,
i go on a journey
to far away places that
others can only imagine.
sometimes
i go to darfur
and visit the beautiful ones
who dwell in the land of the blood rivers.
they drink from the waters yet do not become ill.
somedays,
i go to tibet where the quiet ones dwell.
but they will
talk to me.
we talk about happiness
and peace
and love
and all of the things that i lost along with childhood.
we stand on the mountain's edge and shout out the secrets of life.
no one will hear us.
then
i go to atlantis
and roam about the the palaces of the forgotten ones.
i sit at the feet of poseidon and tell him what it is like
to walk along the beach in the sunshine
and
how to build sandcastles.
and yes,
i even go to the place
where the artic ones reside.
i help them catch fish
which
we take back to their igloos to cook
while their children play about in the snow
with no doubt
or hate
or fear.
and i stand outside watching them.
and it is there
at those places
that i can still believe
in Santa Claus.
Copyright © Carol Bowen-Davis | Year Posted 2010
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