In one year we travel four billion miles around the Sun
Without even stirring a limb.
We dream fifteen thousand dreams,
Remembering almost none.
How significant those that we do.
In a lifetime we may see nine hundred New Moons
Twenty-five thousand sunsets,
Twenty-five thousand dawns.
How many do we really see?
How significant those that we do.
How many times might my love smile at me?
How many times will we kiss?
How many dreams can we make come true
Before time flees and is gone?
How significant those that we do.
If I thought I’d be gone tomorrow
What would I say and do?
Nothing significant
The light comes and goes across the earth;
A clock hand that sweeps us away.
Butterflies, unaware
The Dreaming Path 