Hidden beneath the canopy of a forest older than man, a garden protected from time thrives.  Its ancient walkways spreading out to thread their way through blossoming hedges, and around trees bearing emerald green leaves.  The air is filled with the glow of fireflys, and ribbons of mist, like pearlesnt streams, swirl and weave to and fro.  A pond of sapphire blue marks the center of this protected place, its undisturbed waters provide a dazzilng reflection of the early dawn sky.  At the far end of the pool, doors can be seen, standing alone in the garden.

Heavy tho they appear, the deep rich cherry wood doors swing readly open at the slightest touch, revealing within a grand hallway of marble and crystal walls, polished obsidian flagstones, and wonderous arches of gold.  Door after door line the sides, each passing by with a restless silence, a promise of grand visions beyond, and in the distance winding double stairs loom overhead.  

The great foyer opens up to a breathtaking view. A waterfall, frozen in time, cascades down to a fountain, seeming to pour its crystalline wealth into the endless depths as high above, stained glass reveals the sun, just breaking thru the dark blue dawn.  Its brilliant rays casting a wonderous nimbus of color down upon the fountain and the floor, each hue spilling down and mingling with its companions in an intricate dance, forming vision after vision, of scenes long past, and promises yet to come.

From deeper within this grand and ancient structor, the sound of deep chimes rings out, a harmony beginning to build upon itself.  The more delicate sound of bells begins to shine through, their melody unknown and of an unimaginable purity.  These two sounds echo and mingle, over and over, within the walls of the foyer, building upon themselves until they reach a full and soul shaking finale, and then gradually fade away, only to start again, echoing eternally throuught the long empty halls.

The music, ancient and somber, flow along the passages as water in a river, leading deeper and deeper until they emerge in a room larger than imagination, and filled with a light that brings both peace and longing to the soul.  The chimes and bells begin again, a third source picking up the final part of the song, and bringing it to new heights of divinity.  Each crecsendoing peak is accompanied by a brilliant flash of color, glowing brighter and brighter until nothing else can be seen.  And as the song comes to its end, the colors fade, the light grows dim, and the room is gone.

Bright morning light spills over the clearing, a dry pond over grown with weeds, and tumbled down walls of marble long claimed by vines, speak the final eulogy of a grand and wonderous palace.  And in the wind, a whisper can be heard:  "Paradise is but a dream.  And all can dream."