After the last flood has dried            
And the last quake has grumbled
After the sky has torn--
                                                 in chunks both feared and fair--
And unto Earth gracelessly crumbled
    
                                                   ­                                When there is no time left to unwind
or memories there to rewind

Listen,








                   for in the silent breeze
                                                    floats­ a living dream
                                                                ­                    with childlike ease.

It sings:


                       *Of all the places I have been
                     Of all the faces I have seen
                          Of all the comforts I have had
                     None dare be as safe
                                                            ­  as the arms of Dad.