It's 4: 45 and I'm fortified and on track Awake overnight, a glorified insomniac I wait for the morning light to make contact It's a glorious sight for sore eyes; as dawn cracks I'm ignoring it; why? My vision's gone black It's time for a long nap, and I'm ready to be Settled deep in steady sleep; nestled in feather sheets I'm already intrigued by what I see ahead of me An iridescent beach, a crescent peach moon A phosphorescent sea stirred by a western breeze That carries a pleasant tune with a resonant beat From the direction of desert dunes, as I begin to creep To a crest where a vision looms: I can see seven priests And a collection of ruins where earth and heaven meet Sacred temples and tombs where spirits live and breathe Their holy breath in the rooms, and I watch expectantly As a ritual resumes; but the head priest removes His headpiece and beckons to me impatiently As a second priest prepares a place for me next to his seat And I obey his decree on shaky feet breathlessly And leave the safety of the beach in a state of ecstasy And proceed to the left of the priest and then stare As the high priestess descends the temple stairs And she's dressed in expensive layers From her knees to her chest and I freeze; in her hair Is a bee's nest; it's the headpiece she wears That keeps the rest of them all meek and scared I try to be prepared, unaware that she wasn't Even comin' for me, and I would be spared Then I'm on my feet runnin', surrounded by bees buzzin' I can see the priests covered in about three-dozen Apiece, with the priestess standin' above 'em Lookin' like she's lovin' every minute of it For a moment the image hovered in my vision and doubled And then the next thing I know I'm back under my covers Smothered with sunlight streaming through the shutters