Someday, when we're old and leathery,
Perhaps when we're two hundred and five,
Or more antique than that,
We'll move to the spirit world
And take up residence.

There will be a white stone castle
On a seaside cliff
That rises from a moor.

Facing toward the west,
And each day's painting of the sun,
It will beckon us to walk through rooms
Filled with sunlight.

We will live there, with our children
And our children's loved ones,
A clan that lives to love others
And bring them to our castle
Of warmth and heart and love.

Art and music and growing things
Will fill the rooms,
Expressing how much we value
The chance to give and serve and love.

Our castle is waiting for us,
To live in its walls and dance with the world.
It will never change.
Its walls will never crumble.

My love for you is stronger than our castle.
If, on the way to the spirit world,
You found that your home was to be
A darkened hole of regretful muck,
But mine (through a clerical error)
Was still the castle,
You need not worry.

I would live with you in ooze,
Cleaning our swamp together,
Until our castle welcomed us
And watched us dance with the world.