Holding hands, we walked
Towards a field of clover
Fragrant in early evening
Slightly dampened by the dew,
There we stopped and sat
And lifting our heads
Gazed upon the silvery clouds
As they drifted by like,
Flocks of white lambs.
Then a spirit layed its
Hand upon us
And a new dawn
Lifted us above these
Fields of green
And birds that sing,
Willingly we went
And willingly we followed
Letting our old selves fall
And shared a new light
Covering us like angel's wings.
Towards a field of clover
Fragrant in early evening
Slightly dampened by the dew,
There we stopped and sat
And lifting our heads
Gazed upon the silvery clouds
As they drifted by like,
Flocks of white lambs.
Then a spirit layed its
Hand upon us
And a new dawn
Lifted us above these
Fields of green
And birds that sing,
Willingly we went
And willingly we followed
Letting our old selves fall
And shared a new light
Covering us like angel's wings.
... I especially like the part about the lambs.