When I die, let it be like a dream

Where I fly over fields of snow 

With your hand in mine;

Squeezing three times to tell me you love me

And we live here in a cabin ensconced in glistening white

We live here in a place of our own

Without fear of suffering

Without the brittle noise of the world

Without the weight of anxious thoughts 

A place, our place 

Where we can be free together

To live the unlived life in the midst of a perfect slumber.