Under my Green Oaktree

For you dear friend, who wants to
fly away to any place that keeps
you free from traitors bringing hell
and stinging unrest in your heart.

Who will tell you where to go, my
friend, to find that green field full
of healing herbs? The poison that
will melt your frozen mind, that
bitter potion giving lust and joy,
and burning pain and fear and
shameful sleep out of your staring
eyes, that know no more to glance
behold the warmth, remind that
simple grace inscribed in any
part of dancing worlds around
and around in silent wonders,
that you destroy in keeping all
yours monsters out...My friend
how can I bring you hope and
comfort in your cell? You locked
the door. You lost our name.

How can I call you just to come
along and sit outside, to sip some
tea and feeling safe and free,
here under my Green Oaktree.

(tynvdb/280414)