The path has never been a straight one, 

only an open one, guided by the sun, 

Composed of love, dust, and rain, 

woven by golden string of the lane, 

Harps line the meadow playing milk, 

wind blows through hair, spinning silk, 

With our eyes wide open and ears silent, 

our hearts are cleansed, of everything violent. 

In falling for you, I fell oh so fast, 

only with the hope of a love to last, 

To have walked this place in a trance, 

is an all-encompassing angelic dance, 

Petals of rose are falling upon your lips, 

drinking in love in eternal sips, 

In drinking you I have become drunk, 

but only to worship you as your personal monk.