This day is yours, always will be, forever and ever. I never knew how you envisaged it, the place beyond the veil, or if you ever did, content with just the contemplation aspect and the praising, being religious and a singer. But I have my ideas, my hopes, that your green fields will be greener, the wind carry you, soft as a spring day, and love wash you in an endless tide.
Wind blows feather soft
over these hills, these meadows,
a bright memory