A Meadow in My Perfect World

There’s a meadow in my perfect world,
where wind dances the branches of a tree,
casting leopard spots of light across the face of a pond.
The tree stands tall and grand and alone,
shading the world beneath it.
There will come a day when I rest,
against its spine and look out over the valley,
where the sun warms, but never burns…
I will watch leaves turn,
green, then amber, then crimson
then no leaves at all..
But the tree will not die
For in this place, winter never comes…
It is here, in the cradle of all I hold dear,
I guard every memory of you.
And when I find myself frozen in the mud of the real,
far from your loving eyes,
I will return to this place, close mine,
and take solace in the simple perfection of knowing you.