Thursday, 12 February 2015


We enclose ourselves within
These glass and metal structures
We call life.

Steady jobs and mortgages
Cars on the driveway
Money in the bank.

Savings for a rainy old age
When we shed tears for the loss
Of youth and the passing of friends.

But I see in a dream a garden
Of tangled roots
Family trees entwining.

Forever summers, sunshine and air
Open spaces which live our
Open-ended lives.

Freedom to cross-pollinate
To cultivate our experiences
Into wilder colours.

Fertilising ourselves
Into a richer soil
Of civilisation.

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