In soundless night, I dream of song,
Of light and fire, fierce and strong;
Not quite awake, nor quite in dream,
I drift in places in between,
Where joy, pure, flees from memory
As conciousness slips over me.
In innocence, I dream of war,
Of tattered remnants washed ashore,
Of vict'ry to what few remain,
All free from blood, or death, or pain...
In grief and shock I bolt awake,
And shed bitter tear's for country's sake.
In loneliness, I dream of love:
Strange luck, or fate, it's made up of;
Two hearts aflame in love's first light!
Two souls set free in boundless flight!
A thunderhead's resounding roar!
And yet I dream, and nothing more.
In restlessness, I dream of peace,
Where all my fears and worries cease.
My love, my heart, in quiet grace,
Awaits me there, in time, and space;
In golds, and greens, and love's soft hues,
In solitude, I dream of you. |
