Our old cedar trees are
whispering in the wind tonight.
They set close to each other and it must be
juicy gossip or some delight.
Their voices are gentle and softly they
hold a whimsy it seems.
"You know! Did you hear about Gloria's dreams?"
"No! Tell me! Green in the Snow."
"Oh you are so wise surely you know."
"I may be wise but I'm not as tall as you."
"I can't look out over the meadow and dew"
"Hush! Don't flatter me! I am serious."
"Well then, tell me." "I am curious."
"Great Spirit stepped into her mind,"
"He gave her a lovely dream find."
"She dreamed of all her friends there."
"Of course!" "There were enough to spare."