Beneath the field where no winds blow I count the flowers one by one Pale morning melts into the grass And leaves no shadow where I stand Someone left a little key But no one came to seek the door Deep in the earth, the roots still breathe And dream of nights from long ago Tell me, why Are my hands so cold? Tell me, why Do the flowers take root? Sleep, sleep, my silent garden Do not wake when spring returns Hide the little key beneath the green And let no one open me Whenever someone calls my name Something inside begins to ache A memory I have never known A wound that I was never given Green glass blooming on my arm Clearer than the morning rain A fragile light that fades at touch Yet deeper than the darkest night If I am the door Who made me the lock? If I am the key What am I meant to open? Sleep, sleep, my silent garden Let the roots grow ever deeper Till the flowers wither on their own Please, do not let go of my hand Millions of nights have passed below Something still waits beneath the soil I never called it Yet I hear it calling me I am the key I am the garden I am the sleep And I... Still remain Without a sound The grass begins to sway Beneath the flowers An ancient dream turns in its sleep And I remain Just as I was Watching the pale and quiet dawn Keeping a name I cannot speak Deep within this borrowed heart I smile as though I have always known
