There's a meadow in my perfect world.
There wind dances the branches of the tree casting leopard spots of light across the face of the pond.
The trees dance tall and grand and alone shading the world beneath it.
It's in the cradle of all else, here...
I guard my memory of you and when I find myself frozen in the mud of the real, far from your loving eyes; I will return to this place.
I will close my eyes and take solace in the simple perfection of knowing you.
