Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,
however big and bold,
that is what I may well of been told,
in this life of old.
Trying to awaken my consciousness,
for I must be comatosed,
surely I am not in the living world,
my head must be in the clouds.
I wake up in a sweat,
not knowing what has just happened,
it all seems so surreal,
do I stand in judgement or appeal.
Piecing together my thought processes,
was it a dream or a reality,
wishing, thinking of my grandmother watching over me,
sending me a sense of calm and peace.
I will stay with that thought,
that beautiful vision,
of my grandmothers mission,
to deliver peace and harmony to a muddled brain.