As I lie in bed, 
Flat on my back; 
There passes across my ceiling 
An endless panaroma of things-- 
Quick steps of gay-voiced children, 
Adolescence in its wondering silences, 
Maid and man on moonlit summer's eve, 
Women in the holy glow of Motherhood, 
Old men gazing silently through the twilight 
Into the beyond. 
O God, give me words to make my dream-children live.