Sanctuary Poem by Barry Middleton

There still must be a secret place,
a land where no one comes to call,
I saw it clearly in my youth,
a forest near a waterfall.

The valley was obscured in mist,
and I had stumbled on that spot,
but then moved on to grander things.
In time the sanctum was forgot.

But far from home and tired and old,
I often fall into a dream
of safety and a hidden glen,
and sacred meadows by a stream.

Some night the dream will come again,
and I will build a cabin there,
to welcome then my peace and rest,
relieved of burdens and of care.