The ineffable feeling

I wish to run to the tree
Feel its roots and slump on the dancing grass
I amble through the door
The bark tickling my palms as birds whisper
In the leaves
An endless hallway, that smells of warm amber
And wilting dandelions
The cold tiles send shivers up my arms
My fingers rustling the broken pattern along the wall
I run, beautiful beings following
As we close the garden
Will we pause or keep on?
That is up to the wind and the petals it blows

This is what it feels like, what heaven is.