83. WOOD

WOOD
I wish that I could build with wood
what my heart and mind can see.
Thrust from the spirit and the ground,
a wonderful kingdom it would be;
at one and the same of Earth and of Heaven.
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I wish that I could construct with my feelings
the durable fit of the world's own glove.
Tight with fingers and snug,
made comfortable by charm and illusion,
I would wear it as a golden cloth or a
richness of fabric never before seen or imagined.
Then, perhaps, we would all be our own perfection.
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Sunlight. Brilliance. Unwavering affection.
A fluorescent love brought to the very battlements
of fear - then the world would be transformed.
Light, and light alone, would be life's meaning.