I stood within a wood of gold.
So silent it was until a breeze wondered in,
Shaking the leaves, like tambourines.
Then gently they fell upon the ground.
Their sound was of a drumming dim,
As if sounding from far within.
The wind whistled past me and on it rolled.
The tall dogwoods clapped.
And so the songs of trees surrounded me.

Before me lay a little path,
The dark ground was inlaid with gold.
A little way ahead it mused
Until around a corner it did run,
And how could I not travel it?
One step, then two, then lost forever,
Until every tree of that golden wood I saw.

It was long ago, when on that path I walked,
But still I can hear that enchanted music.
Where winds sang, and trees danced, I stood.
Where I was I do not know, but I know that it was no dream.
Somewhere, on Journey’s long road, I stood within a wood of gold.