The Mystic Land
I wandered one day to a Mystic Land,
by Sheila Brolsma
The beauty alarmed me—everything seemed so grand.
What does this Mystic Land mean to me?
I feel my very being and my soul seem so free.
The bright light that permeates the scene,
Was something emanating from the unseen.
The flowers were of a brighter hue, that captured the scene.
The gurgling stream went on its way, enchanted by the aura of light.
A tree stood by, the branches keeping track of a thousand leaves.
Then came birds of every hue and size, in flight.
What a scene!
A thousand leaves began to move; the birds increased in the
Mystery of the breeze.
Then the vision of one who stood beside all those years,
The touch of whose hand calmed my fears.
This is what the Mystic Land brought to me—