How long since I've left myself to dream
Of Tinkerbell or Captain Hook -
Who fly upon such magical schemes
And make life more grand than it seems?
So many times, our minds are shut tight
To think only of how things look.
When all the while the fabric of right
Is woven with a beam of luminous light,
Exposing, no, opening our eyes to a World
So deeply imbedded in our hearts.
What dreams our hearts imagine, unfurled
In all their splendor - unseen, whirled -
Amidst all the commotion and sincerity.
People walking, juggling the parts
Of their lives that seem to have no coherity.
What could imagination have with our sanity?
And yet I find that I am dreaming
Of a Neverland - a Foreverland -
A Place where the magic, never fleeting,
Is forgiveness from a higher being.
His grace and mercy are the golden dust
And joy is much more than sand
On beaches white. Fly, I must,
To this glorious Place of which I lust.
This Place has overthrown the dark
One who pirates the waters.
He was cast out of his rugged ark
And now all creation sings as a lark.
Had not the imagination been fed
Of many sons and daughters,
They would not easily to this Place be led
Nor dream so sweetly in their bed.
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