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I made for thee a dream cocoon.
I held it to the sky.
I hung it by a bed of flowers
In Heaven’s breeze, to dry.
The bed of flowers my blossoming bower
Where wondrous dreams are born.
I sang to it a lullaby
That peaceful, happy morn.
I wished for thee the moon, the stars,
The earth, the wind, the rain,
A dream to open hidden paths
Through Heaven’s earthly plane.
Some day my little dream cocoon
Will come into thine hand,
Then name thy dream and break the shell,
Accept and understand.
The babe is thee, that part of thee
Eternal and divine,
Return to earth the rest of it.
The seed and shell are mine.
And from them I will grow thy dream,
Unfolding with each dawn,
Thine own enchanted blossoming bower,
Where wondrous dreams are born.
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