If one flower wilts in your eyes,
and you turn alone from the wooden porch,
where it grew, you'll remember.
And if silence falls around your bed-
you watch the stars inside your head,
find the one you shelter.
If all your mornings are quiet and still,
but no voice that says I love you comes...
then close your eyes, and dream of one.
And when all the day is done,
you've roamed the wooded trails of home
through winding creek and setting sun,
then leave the sleepy willow's rest,
the tiny sparrow's woven nest...
the words you need, will come.
- David T. Culver
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