As I lie in my bed and drift off to my dreams,
My senses awaken to many new things.

The place that I've come to has a life of it's own.
To look back, then forward, the vision is one.

A place graced with beauty, created with love,
By a man filled with insight, knowing just what it was.

My feet leave my body as they cushion the path,
Every inch of the grounds in my dreams I must pass.

To see and to feel, to touch and to taste,
The beauty of silence all etched in one place.

An orchard of palm trees beckoning the cool night,
To replenish it's strength from the sun at it's height.

The sounds of waves crashing distant on shore,
The moon with it's halo and stars, stars galore.

Faint music is echoing from lights far away,
As I touch the cool water and recall christening day.

Sweet smells of blossoms fill the night air,
And guardians surround me as I climb up the stairs.

Although it's a place beyond land, beyond sea,
The path is one of my sweet memories.

And as my eyes become heavy with awe,
In my heart Huerta Verde's really not far.


Rhonda Christensen