i sometimes speak
to a not too distant
i cannot call to
the beat of time

this child of mine
is too far gone
it sleeps in my eyes
like the make of a mark
in its vacant surprise

it is all i can take
while someone could stand
beat rainbows out of stone
while the wind would wild

wandering downfall
following weep
we waken and sunder
sorrow and slumber
weigh to the course of time