I sleep in my bed chamber at my own home at night
I find my self standing in a field of green grass
Where
I’ve been here before
But
I don’t know how?
I don’t know why?
And I don’t know when?
I stand up from my hiding
And I could hear drums drumming
Mandolin and violin strings playing
Flutes and voices singing
And people dancing
To the soft music
Enveloping them
As I neared the festive grounds
I find myself in Scottish lands
In the early
Celtic morn
