Prism Song

If you were a carpenter, your hands to the grain
 If you'd stayed a stranger and I'd never learned your name
 If you were a creature of make believe
 If you were the shades of colors my eyes cannot see
 I never would have known what you could have meant to me
 If you were a mason, your body over stone
 If you were a garden with myrtle overgrown
 If you were the walls that purposed the room
 If you were a prism with the light passing through
 I never would have known what you could have meant to me
 If you were a child, born new into the day
 If you were the dreamcatcher above the bed I make
 If you were immortal, with no concern for age
 If you were the northern hills that knew not rapid pace
 I never would have known what you could have meant to me