bathed in White gold
this waking dream unfolds

in most holy Spring
when the world is young
and the hills are g r e en.

let us turn-
to face the sun
and over the hills
we'll turn and run

stretching out our arms
just like the trees
closing o u r e y e s
as a heavenly breathe
sweeps across the Seas

and over the Earth
awakening stale l i f e

spring has returned to us
to refreshen, to revive-
to smile at nature
reborn and to l a u g h

for cruel winter has passed
and Bright and new is our path...
in most holy Spring
white gold is all we SEE.


(a rough little diddy
I've been messing with...)


steve