Run down with me to Bynum's pond, it's there we'll waste the day
And lay out on the bank to watch, God's little angels play
We'll climb the oak and willow trees, be brave and brash and bold
And wade along the nearer side, among the tails of gold
We'll share our thoughts on mysteries, the things we wish we knew
And make up answers we both know, aren't even close to true
We'll then begin to share our hearts, about the things that count
And how we want to live our lives, like sermons on the mount
We'll stop, reflect and then we'll weep, not even knowing why
But we will leave the pond that day, and live forever high
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem