The meadow

There lives a meadow in a forgotten place
we tried so hard to retrace
its said to be gorgeous with its golden crops
its purple skies and its perfect breeze
when our world is in balance it may reappear
it may stay for days weeks months maybe even years
we just have to bring peace we just have to rejoice
we must lend god our ears, then he'll give us his voice
then we'll go to the meadow and pick berries and fruits
we'll then run in the meadow and we'll take off our boots
but we may be wrong maybe the meadows already here
maybe its in our hearts
we must listen to the breeze then we'll develop many paths on how to make peace.