Unspoken

there is a place where I must go that's like a book that has no name you will not find it on the shelf for everyone it is the same so anyone can make it theirs and fill the page with what they wish perhaps it's like the home we lost and long to see just one last time for me there is a fertile glen I see it clearly even now but I cannot describe its grace although you know I've often tried the grass is green and gardens grow from loam as rich as time bestows and fruiting trees abound in bloom to lend the air their sweet perfume here too the crystal waters flow un-endingly from hills and springs with clover thick and pasture green a secret flowered meadow sings this Eden may be blessed by sounds unheard beyond the bygone years the animals of farm and field that once a carefree child had known and too I hear familiar tunes the ones I listened to in youth an old piano freshens night and calls us home at dinner time our mom and dad will take their seats the kids will find their favored place and all will briefly bow their heads as one recites our thanks for grace when chores and homework all are done the silent hush will settle in beneath the moon the children sleep and dream about the coming day but one yet lies full wide awake and tries so hard to shape his dreams he plans to travel far and wide to wander from his valley home and as he grows to write his book of every path that he once took