Pasture

I have a dream reoccurring

Of yellow pastures and soft winds blowing

Up in the sky, a bird of prey

Hovering by me, nowhere to play

And in the distance, I see a body

But I'm not sure just what it is

I walk across the yellow pasture

Ever so carefully a soft tiptoeing

As if the slightest breath would awake it

Or awake me before I make it, before I know it

And in those dreams where I get to see

What lies across the pasture from me

Sometimes a body, gnashing of teeth

Sometimes a hollow, a swarm of bees

Freshly dug grave, a deep-blue sea

Sometimes it's you and you are sleeping

And in those dreams, you are too dreaming

Of yellow pastures of worlds away

Of your love dreaming a world away

A warm wind blowing, a soft tiptoeing

Tiptoe away, tiptoe away

Tiptoe away, tiptoe away