Come under the cherry tree with me
To rest within its moving pools of shade
And listen to the passing summer wind
High in the leaves.
Nearby, within her cot,
The baby sleeps, dreaming of lives unlived
And faces not yet seen. Hers is the time
Of total innocence, of rosebud promise
And of quiet content. Yours is the time,
When after fears and pain, come flooding joy
And peace and renewed motherhood.
14th August 1976