On The Wings of a Dream

Yesterday I had a dream about dying, about laying to rest and then flying,
how the moment at hand is the only thing we really own.
And I lay in my bed and I wondered, after all has been said and is done for,
why is it thus we are here and so soon we are gone?
Is this life just a path to the place that we all have come from?
Does the heart know the way and if not, can it ever be found
in a smile or a tear or a prayer or a sigh or a song?

And if so, then I sing for my father, and in truth, you must know I would rather
he were here by my side, we could fly on the wings of a dream.
To a place where the spirit would find us and the joy and surrender would bind us.
We are one anyway, anyway we are more than we seem.
There are those who will lead us, protect us each step of the way.
From beginning to end, for each moment, forever, each day.
Such a gift has been given, it can never be taken away.