Wintertime In Dreams
A winter night is rolling in
And I sit in black thought on my own
My eyes are open but my body sleeps
Though life is a short warm moment
And death a long cold rest
Why at the end of the day
When the rouged coals languish long after midnight
Do we seek the blank emptiness of the bed?
When we come from the cold numbness of a winter’s day
Do we whisk away all feeling in a black nothing?
Maybe, we can help but feel curious
As to what awaits us after our coals have turned to ash.
A winter night is rolling in
And I sit in black thought on my own
My eyes are open but my body sleeps
Though life is a short warm moment
And death a long cold rest
Why at the end of the day
When the rouged coals languish long after midnight
Do we seek the blank emptiness of the bed?
When we come from the cold numbness of a winter’s day
Do we whisk away all feeling in a black nothing?
Maybe, we can help but feel curious
As to what awaits us after our coals have turned to ash.
