Mark Greenland Photography

The Return

The Return

 

The words on the page blur and fade

and instead there appears a bright forest glade.

The clatter and chatter of commercial natter

retreat and surrender to sylvan murmur.

 

Now here’s a place I could never find

without that blessed inner mind,

where time and money don’t exist

and failings fade beyond the mist.

 

Deep within embattled soul –

stirred by long awaited call –

some forgotten need awakes

and free of obligation breaks.

 

An atavistic yearning grows

to merge with all that grows and flows.

The prodigal son must turn from commerce

and settle that unspoken promise.