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Travels Through the Mist
Waterfalls move on through time
holding mem'ries brought to mind,
But like moments gone before
there be nothing left to find.
Faces in a painted crowd
fix their eyes upon the game
In which passing lives are played
beyond footprints of the lame.
Love has left it's broken soul
on a vacant one-way street,
He'll be chasing rainbows gone
'till his journey is complete.
Moonbeams paint the childhood dreams
in the whitewash of old age,
While hopes fade forevermore
with the passing of the sage.
Weariness moves us through mist
and lost days for which we yearn,
Bluebirds wait their happy songs
for the spirit to return.
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