And, every time I fall asleep,
It’s innocent and new.
I hear the fragrant dog rose creep
And taste the falling dew.
The chandeliers hung from the stars
Throw sparkles on the sea,
And pipers play the closing bars
Of “When Shall I Be Free?”
The cry that was a distant hope
Is now a nearby prayer,
And then a sailor throws a rope,
Which sprouts wings in the air.
And nothing’s done for its own sake,
And, when it’s done, I awake.
Photo by Javardh on Unsplash
