22

The Redlands are free
The Redlands are free

When breathe fails,
and I float,
up to the sea,
my destination,
the red lands will be.
I'll break through the surface,
high in the air,
laughing at loss as I make my way there.

I'll run cotton fields of
porcelain white, 
skipping from island to island
till night,
and then I will switch, 
grasping at stars, 
climbing a ladder
with twinkling bars.

Freely I'll bound,
blue,
white or grey,
sunlight,
constantly,
warming my way,
and then right on time,
I'll suddenly see,
the Redlands burning in front of me.

The Redlands are hidden,
daily they flare,
to signal all comings and goings
up there,
my aches will disperse,
pursuers detained,
I can finally stop running,
just past the flames.

The Redlands are free,
and they are my goal,
my impetus,
being,
all of my soul,
and one day 
I'll cross,
that fiery line,
be welcomed to 
restfully,
finally recline,
all sorrows outrun,
no burdens for me, 
into eternity,
nothing to see.