Two Pieces of a Vision

The leaven of my skeptical mind, seemed to disappear in the countryside and small cities of Sweden. We did feel a bit like the couple of fairy tales, when we dined off the harbor and held hands walking through the cities greenery and sculpture parks. Rounding the edges of castles, it was if you were a whole 'nother woman when I saw you smiling back at me.
If we dismantle the messages given to us by our contemporaries and unplug their instruments
of communication by our own use of will
Utopia is no longer a word but almost half of
a wish made true.
The cottage we stayed in, in a village outside
the vestiges of Stockholm, with apple trees and candles to light our evenings, seemed to be the right medicine for us as a newly married couple, as two working class millennials from America who had to contend with the leviathan of corporate power to even find the time to go. What did Jesus say of the rich man's chance of eternity?
Of reaching the after life? It is a slim chance, because money has seized their hearts.
We saw what the quiet noiseless cottage could do for us!
Now we must make our hearts a quiet cottage, a peaceful home, despite whatever we've returned to, and how hard that may be, trying to piece the two visions, the two worlds together.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
My country
Our world

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