If I went into a field
And layed upon the grass
As the mizzle wets the leaves
My face and my bare hands,
Soaking right through my clothes,
Slowly chilling my trembling bones,
Where would be my dreaming?
What would be the purpose?
If instead it was a beach
Beneath a torrid sun
And it was gentle waves
That washed tiny white

Sea shells all about
Dragging them past my feet
Into a blue blue sea
And you were there with me
Would the warmth manifest
A tremble in my aching heart;
Would love be inflated again
Such that I could never leave

That paradise on the Earth?
Would that rebirth the past?

Would that have a purpose?
Could that be the answer?

Can the past be recontrived?
Memories be brought back to life?
Or are they gone, dead and buried?

Only to be dreamed inside my head?

© Griffonner 2025