On the bench of tranquility
I rest my weary bones
With drinking vessel in pocket
The wind she gently groans
Hankering for conversation
Into a slumber I start to drift
Blue sky filters my pupils
As my vision begins to shift
I\'m dreaming of daffodils
A lump shapes in my throat
The pain pierces my chest
And my soul lifts and floats
Soaring over the fields
Ducking under the bridge
Unnatural supernatural pulling
Takes me into the ridge
There I see a miracle
A lady shrouded in white
She beckons me to come forward
And tells me to enter the light