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THE MEADOW

Vicki Bolaños


In the meadow beside the wood, we come together as families should. The sky is blue; the light shines bright, and the air is clean with a flow that’s slight.


All the flowers are blooming -- every hue and color are known. Each one is different and yet equivalent.


In the meadow near the brook, we run and play, our strength renewed. Long strides and jumps so high - had we forgotten? Then we lay down to rest on the soft, sweet ground.


Smiles and laughter, no worries here. All are comforted from despair and grief. All together, we feel the love; the safety surrounds us, and we have everything we need. Stringed instruments are heard in the distance as we sing and dance. Children skip and frolic in the grass with no weeds.


Fragrances merge together -- the salty sea and woodsy trail, the rocky mountain

pathways, and flat wheat-filled plains. We see it all, both near and far. Time no longer holds us; we are forever free. Here in the meadow just beyond the trees.

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