Over the hills the sheep chose to wander

Through thicket and brambles the they not stop to ponder

With the moon rising high all fall to slumber

The eternal night reaches out for hours

And yet the stars are eventually devoured

The lonely moon does not weep

She waits with grace as all do sleep

Their dreams are silent

No whispers of what they see

Until the sun arrives in the sky

Young and old awaken and strive