Where does the wind come from, and where is it going? The stories of where it's been. |
To worthy hearts are stories told, The stories of the wind. So few that know, but time will show Just where the wind has been. Beyond the setting blood-red sun, Across the darkened fen, No one knows from where it blows Or where the wind has been. She’s seen the lands of far away, So foreign to our eyes. She knows the truth in spite of us Telling all our lies. She’s seen the life brought forth from love, And in time, passing too. She’s seen the mountains, canyons, oceans, And the sky forever blue. She’s shared the grace of gentle hearts And mourned with lives of tears. She’s seen what power hate can have Building through the years. She’s heard cries of oppression, Whispers passed from ear to ear, Of freedom from this living hell, The freedom from all fear. She’s heard the children crying As their families fall apart. She’s heard the girls all talk about How he broke their heart. She’s seen the world’s expanses, And traveled to it’s very ends. She’s seen the faces, seen the places, That’s where the wind has been. You’ve listened to her story And now you know that when You listen close, that then you’ll know Just where the wind has been. 3-9-05 |