Father of dreams take my hand. 
Stormy night skies, 
drift steadily into the land.

Forty eight new moons I have seen.
Please tell me Father, 
of these unmerciful dreams.

Crimson ribbon tied around my hair. 
As we stand beneath the willow, 
I scream out to him "Are you there?" 
But my cries seem to fall on deaf ears.
(Then he speaks)
~*~
The willow never weeps
The Branches are weighted
by the love it keeps
Sweet Daughter of Mine
open your mind
and dry your tears
you will find
your hidden fears
are just as blind
as the deafened ears
I am listening and I hear your cries
the storms are an illusion
created when perfect love dies
The leaves are wishes
The branches are dreams
close your eyes
quiet your screams
I am here
Your Father of Dreams