Awake he sleeps a dreaming
as the rains fall quick and slow
his thoughts they fly a speeding
from whence he cannot know
The moment lasts forever
yet though lingering still is gone
a distant echo in the forest
a song from way beyond
To stir the breeze with gentle fingers
and sing forever would be sweet
to slide toward the rainbow's end
a reckoning to meet
'Tis there all pastures wander
thru the everlasting storm
to that place where pots of gold
are souls entwined in shapeless form