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