What do I do with the dreams of you

You trace your soft hands to the side of my face

And you stay out in the sacred air

With your eyes turned to the light

In my dreams of you

It is something sweet

Of the soft life of remembering

And the orchard there

In the early light

On the cold soft ground

In the sight of God

Through the door I see

Years that I could spend

Living simply in the love of you

Where there is no death

Outside of it

You're the only thing

That I'm clinging to

In my dreams of you

It is something sweet

Of the soft life of remembering

And the orchard there

In the early light

On the cold soft ground

In the sight of God