Stop looking. Stop. Close your eyes.
Turn your face to the dying sun like a flower.
Let the breeze keep time in the wisps of your hair
with the shadows at play upon the mountains.
with the shadows at play upon the mountains.
The elders stand large and forever along the waters
edge
grey and brittle in their high winter garb, their backs
the strength of the ages
grey and brittle in their high winter garb, their backs
the strength of the ages
Let them bear your heart's weight and breathe in a new
day done.
The moon will rise the heart will heal.
Memory will change.
Morning will bring a new song.
