Poetry

I’m going on a vacation
I’m never coming back
It will be joy, pure joy
Won’t you come with me, khalid

There’ll be acres of grassy meadows
That front a garden green
A garden spread much wider than
All the forests you’ve ever seen

And the trees stand tall and mighty
With their leaves of green and gold
With fruit that offer themselves
For the plucking, I am told

We’ll eat one together
We’ll share it if you stay
Not because we’ll need to but I think
We’ll like it more that way

I’ll take a bite and lose myself
In the high that it will bring
You’ll take a bite and lose yourself
In a song you’ll want to sing

It will be exhilarating
But we won’t go out of breath
We’ll be all done with breathing
No more injury or death

And then we’ll talk about it all
As we sit down by a stream divine
I’d probably talk about my garden
My garden, yes, all mine

All mine

You will have your garden too
We can go visit it later, or
We could go there first, or whenever
But whenever won’t be a thing anymore

If I get there first, then promise me
You’ll come along as well
We’ll never have to leave that place
Where pleasures only swell

And I won’t ever have to write
My thoughts in ether or paper
But I could if I really wanted to
If that’s what I really want to do

Please promise me you’ll come
Make sure you plant your garden first
Before you pack your things
And trade your breath for wings

I’ll meet you by the fountain