Walking Home
Walking Home
When the path that lies ahead of me;
Becomes difficult to meager through.
I close my eyes and in my mind;
I walk home to you.
Ancient mountains of Appalachia;
My ancestors sacred home.
My heart lies hidden in the mist;
And forever it shall roam.
Wild honeysuckle in the breeze;
The aroma of fresh mountain rain.
Kudzu vines growing everywhere;
Memories of you remain.
Whisper of voices in the trees;
Of those that came before.
The songs that the sparrows sing;
Moonshine, remedies, and folklore.
Momma's cooking and babies sleeping;
Old Dirt roads and mountain streams;
I walk home to you;
If only in my dreams.
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