We have heard whispered murmurs,
Fanciful ideas of this mystery's,
True form,
This drink of the Gods.

I have glimpsed it,
In dreams most clear,
From a perspective,
That I was held fast to.

This vision began,
In a place unknown,
Where Nature held us,
In Her protective embrace.

In my hand,
Was this Ambrosia,
The sought-after,
Nectar of Might.

In golden chalice,
Filled to its brim.
A mild sample,
Of clear amber.

Most heavenly.
Cool heat of mint leaf,
Soothing and smooth.

And the taste,
O divine and incomparable,
Memories of clear Sake,
And honey most exquisite.

Beautiful explosion,
Of perfect balance.
My liquid sunshine,
On a winter's morn.

Thick silk,
Of fluid threads.
Embroidered spring,
Upon the molten fabric.

In a single sip,
This long yearned for feeling,
Of finally coming home,
Inviting, welcoming.

It leaves one filled,
In every way,
Heart bursting with joy,
Mind cleansed of confusion.

True food for the soul,
A lasting enlightenment,
That is bliss and calm.
This is no mere escape.

Fulfilling all,
Life's promises,
A toast to the Gods themselves,
No other would serve for their table.

So vivid a revelation,
I may almost reach,
Take it for mine own,
And become whole.

Alas, I could not,
For it was but a dream,
That did end and leave me,
With only a quixotic dreamer's hope,
Of ever seeing it again.