The place I see somewhere between a long-gone star and the receptor in my father's brain which interprets the sight as light. It lives where the rerun of that canceled show still plays. It is a beautiful place where sickness, suffering, and Death are not welcomed.
The wind is all of the babies' first laughs. The sun is the warmth of every hug ever given. Happiness engulfs the hearts of every visitor as is simply existing was as grand as winning the lottery.
Crime, jealousy, and evil are as shunned and ignored as the lepors of long ago. The tear-stained meadows at dawn sigh as inhabitors find their day's use of them. Whether is be a picnic for two seasoned with love, or a game of catch riddled with jokes, the grass is simply happy to be there.
We can learn something from this place. Where a snear is a smile, and a slap is a pat on the back. Mistakes never happen, and confusion never was. This place is perfect...but if there is no such thing as perfect, does it really exist?
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