As I wander through the garden I hear myself ask... Are you here Eliyana?
God, I hear you saying... Take off your shoes, for this is Holy Ground.
The leaves of the tree shimmer. They have caught the flame of the setting sun. Orange, gold and weeping beauty. Sailing toward another dawn.
I hear the birdsong He brings me.
Soft cooing pigeons amoungst, the rustle of leaves.
The still sky.
The cradle shaped moon.
She is here,
He is here,
So Close that the breeze can only bring a lullaby,
Eliyana, Eliyana, Eliyana...