What beats the feeling of a ceiling being a sunny sky;

In a cool morning, day adjourning, as a good night says good-bye.

The sound of running water washing over a sleep-refreshed mind,

The music of majestic doves cooing in morning time.

Hands weeding or washing or maybe wielding a tool;

Producing something of value is needed for the heart to be full.

O’ a taste, just a taste of how it was meant to be,

And just a glimpse of the glory of eternity.