There’s a place I know

Where no train has stitched its tracks,

Where no hand has traced a map,

And nobody’s worried,

It’s beautiful…

Mountains of unearthly color

There wait to be discovered

On this continent of wonder

And nobody ever gets to go.

Gold dust

Is carried on the easy breeze,

And settles in the leaves

Of the Amberine trees

That encircle ancient gardens,

So long left alone.

And there is no witness,

No need for forgiveness,

As nobody yet has trespassed

Against these shores.

And nobody ever gets to go.

Here, pillars of iridescent rock

Keep watch

Over nothing at all.

No matter how masterful,

No living artist

Could duplicate nature’s

Enchanted carving.

This miracle of improbable design

Is as rare as it is fine…

And nobody ever gets to go.

There’s a place that nobody knows,

Where ruby wings fold

In the muscodine groves,

And no love is made,

As none stands to be sold…

But paradise spreads on,

Infinitely.

The orchestra of nature’s host

Is the symphony

Of divinity.

And- you know…

When I wrote this, my right hand didn’t know what my left was doing.

This was just a stream of consciousness, that I allowed to carelessly flow
Not sure what I was thinking.

Nobody needs to know.

Nobody ever gets to go.