In The Heart of A Perfect World
We lived in the heart of a perfect world. Here, there could be no tomorrows. No sorrows. No greetings and no departures. In the heart of a perfect world, change is slow to come, if ever. Where each moment is an eternity. Where faith is as common as breath. Where tears are jewels glistening, but never wept. Where the pain would never reach us. Where there is no fear to teach us and no language to describe your suffering. In the heart of a perfect world there is no vulgarity. Familiarity occurs through thoughts we share. The angels wings are rustling, like solar flares. Words have fallen short, or silent, of the mark of love. The grass is smooth and even flowing. The oceans grow like groves of trees. In the heart of a perfect world there is no crime. And no dis-ease. There is only you and me and here we are. Arriving like seeds into the hands of Gods. Here we are, never ending, never changing. Here we are, no separation. We will only start to cling before the fall. In the heart of a perfect world, there is no reason to change. No reason to grow apart. No reason to die or live. No reason to launch into being, like so many chubby caterpillars, thrown at the sun. |
