In a dream, somewhere in other countries, never mapped
a man was speaking, though I did not understand, there was never any plan
and I listened to the wind and rain upon the trees.
With no church bells to ring, and birds were the chorus
I came upon a silent steeple in the forest, standing on it's own,
became a wild bird's home, wrapped in thorny vines
a crown to stain, with berries, bled upon my hands.
Mary was there too, she was looking through
a broken window pane, calling out my name
and too, all the forest called, bathing me in love.
Then with the birds I flew, heavenly into
a deeper dream, til I  awoke at dawn,
to fragrant flowers on the lawn
remembering such heaven.