Looking out over the prairie, just awoken baby in my arms.
Hi there, sky fair,
Cloud is floating by where
Thursday-morning-broken
Bird ascending high there.
Lo here, oh dear,
Trees and grasses grow near
Where Salaam is spoken
Word descending low here.
Baby and I
‘Tween the grass and blue sky,
Taking in the token
Sights rewarding our eye;
So much passing us by…