A place forever forgotten, the fresh rain on the grass of green,
Behind a backdrop of hills with the various dark dots of trees,
Before when rivers turned into waterfalls cascading down cliffs,
Rocky terrain and sandy beaches, lagoons, a backdrop of prairies,
The surge like a smooth endless steady roar, like a pulse, a rush,
Flowing through the earth's veins, becoming streams near where
We all used to camp out, this life force, a flow that sustained us.
The middle of all greys and shades of blue in the skies, soft breeze,
A white golden sun streaming down gentle rays of natural life,
The laughter, the peace gone, but that's the price of our dream.
