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