Chilly Autumn comes, and icy Winter follows,
haunting like a cold wind, blowing through the hollows.
Small, and gently hidden,by colored falling leaves,
lies the promise for the future - Springtime's-Seed.
Days blow along, like wind on the Mountain.
Memories rise, like a deep, woodland fountain.
Images flow past, and whispers repeat,
the sound of a heart's waiting beat.
One day - healing begins.
One day - the Seed stirs again.
One day - clouds all will part,
when Sun sends a ray - to thaw out the heart.
Sun pours its gold on the restless ocean.
Hope warms the depths of silent emotion.
Stars lend a cool and distant light,
to quiet the questions of night.
Days come, and nights come,miles thread the years.
All have a way, for drying the tears.
Springtime and Summer, are seasons within,
and they will blossom again.
One day - the thaw will begin.
One day - there'll come a warm wind.
Songbirds will sing, and the Spirit be freed,
to summon the Springtime Seed.
( © - 1996 - "Future Folk" Music - Betty Curtis )