i know it exists
the question is where

that simple land
once a white canvas

but soon painted
yes
oh so exquisitely!

with rainbows
gliding
upon every waterfall

where drumbeats
serve as a heartbeat
of a community of souls

who prefer verse to violence
harmony to hate
dance to destruction
art to aversion

a place filled
with those strange souls
such as i
artists poets
composers singers
dancers writers
musicians actors
sculptors dreamers
you know the type

the gentle souls
who grow like trees
with branches rising everywhere
trying their darndest
to tickle that sky!

and those trees
would be of the lushest
most sparkling green
and everywhere!

the perfect nesting place
for Mother Magick
to lay her eggs

a Billowy Wood
full of sweet surprises
that taste like little droplets
from the purest rains
from all the heavens

What ever their heavens may be
because in the mighty wood
there are so many
different ways to see and feel
touch and taste
your own light

and all would be accepted
and all would be forgiven
and all would be respectful
of all paths

because in the Billowy Wood
all paths are golden!