• The valley lives in a distant place.

    Growing far from human hands.

    The old creaking trees,

    Are wise with age.

    They whisper secrets,

    Into ignorant ears.

    Who only need to learn how to listen.

    While the long cream wheat,

    Brushes our consciousness.

    Willing the world to fall into its trance.

    Dancing on skin,

    That only needs to learn how to feel.

    As colors of endlessness sing to our souls.

    Waiting for eyes that know how to see.

    We walk in our dreamland wishing for more.

    When the players of life perform their simplicity.

    If only we understood understanding,

    To sit in the grass

    And wait, watch, and listen