THE LAND

Sometimes, when I close my eyes.

I can see a land, not far away.

Of rolling hills and mountain streams,

I can smell the ocean on the breeze.

Blackbirds sing and hawks, they dance.

Foxes play, while old brock sleeps.

And in the cave, the wild man sits,

And looks deep, into the spiral pit.

Who is this wild man I see?

It is I and am I dreaming?

And in the spiral maze do I see,

The future for all, for you and for me?

I can walk this land whenever I wish.

I can climb the hills and fish the stream.

I can descend in this most haunting dream.

In the darkness away from the Sun.

Within the womb of the sacred.

I can bathe in the lake and be refreshed.