Jon Anderson
Days
This song of evening's light would charge my memory to flight
The trees that listen
Swift wings do carry on through constant gardens they offer delight
It is the evening

In deepest woods and fern young deer step light through morning's mist
Ascend the swallows
First light streams through the treetops bouncing as the flowers illuminate
The breath of morning

This day of days I thought I lay in peace midst grass so green
To reach to skyward
Where larks do sing such high delights do pour into my senses
The days are blessings