Not in this world any longer, where all our joys are tarnished with happiness & sorrow
but, where we were and will always be in that youthful joy-dream,
            growing that eternal garden of tomorrow.

Far beyond the crop of Time’s eroding hand,
in a land unearthed by light, where eternally it is spring of ’97;
in short, in Heaven and we rebuild with our heart-love and mind
the never-ending Garden of Our Dreams…
Where you will remain forever (unsuffering light) my prisoner
And the precious ‘Treasure of My Heart’

“Where we will always be…
          rolling in the grass (and you can eat it too)
Where I will always be,
growing that tiny patch of corn and beans
 (where the limas gave endlessly in  ’97)
“Where we will always be, and it will always be
the summer of our dreams
and the weather-vane will swing lazily back and forth over our patch of vegetable greens & tasseled corn.
Where the rain guages post rises above, waiting to measure any wetter weather -
and the sprinklers turn, quietly humming and clicking in the morning sun.
Where the primordial Juniper Tree gracefully trickles down its tiny frosted berries upon our favorite roof (where I sit with my evening cup of tea & watch the stars twinkle out)
Where mom & dad’s chairs will nestle by the Rain-Tree’s birdbath, ready & waiting -
Where the gentle Seabreeze (in G!) will filter in from the East and the noon sun brings sparkling life to all our plants –
Where I will always be returning from fishing, with you curiously playing with my catch in the pail…

III.

This material world is a shadow of reality;

The hard, cold, unyielding edge of the sunken mass of the iceberg of Truth.

The glacial unfolding of an eternal font of evolutionary life – but,

There are bursts, coronas of thawing sunlit-life that warm our material-mad deluded

hearts;  you my precious heart-child were one.

IV.

That is the only home beyond Time’s decay we will build with Heart & Mind.
Beyond the Dagger of Time, with its dreaded stomp of renal failure that took all 5 members of our family away (including you!)

And now I inwardly build with hope-filled prayer and expectation to see you again
Where we will always be, and it will always be
The Summer of ‘97
In The Garden of Our Dreams.

Coda:
I love you my little Cat-child,  you are the ‘Treasure of My Heart’ and the only son
I never had in this life…

I too will be there soon (either too late or too soon – death always comes out of season)

With you, where it will always be our summer of ‘97

In the Garden of Our Dreams…

c. 2013, michael a. guy, all rights reserved