be suspended in a state
of perpetual innocence.
the ways of the world have not yet
peirced thick skin.
closed eyes to a young child
who knows nothing but love,
innocence, imagination &
a heartfelt embrace.
also nature,
listen quietly, distinct possibilities of
the
current babble of spring streams
birthed by snow capped mountains-
mountains untouched by man or industry
conceive to see that fresh laid earth!
Oh, the grandeur & green of it all.
attentive ears can hear new poems spoken in native tongues
lingering bodies with outstretched arms can feel the incessant beat of local music
solitude within arms reach
solace warmed by a fire
red-eyed monsters inside humans,
slain like in a children's tale, unable to corrupt & torment
met by absolute novices
to become reminiscent of family
Oh the tales of times tide!
flowing
could everlasting peace hinder personal thoughts of heroism?
or
would humans crave visions of war & struggles brought upon by man's greed
what then would fill my dreams when I laid down to rest?
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