Have you ever asked yourself how do they appear?
There’s days to fall and days to rise and days for making haste.
Days for seeking out yourself but no days you can waste.
Night times filled with love so good it aches to rest it down.
Endless hallways dark with sleep and rivers dark with sound.
Peaceful valleys, animals and children asking me,
tell the story that you told of sailors drinking tea.
Tell the one about the man who saddled up the wind,
Pegasus and flying fish and woodmen made of tin.
“Pegasus”, John Denver