Inspiration is a Timeless Wind
On a soft morning wind, comes an old memory -
dawn in the country, when I was a child,
a shack in a grove, mockingbird glee,
orange blossoms sweet and wild.
Loved ones I've known, since the first cry I made -
yes - we were poor in money and things,
but we had love, we had sun and shade,
bright winter stars, and soft summer rains.
Oh how distant it seems,
like some other world,
like the haze of a dream,
or a vision unfurled.
On a soft morning wind, floats the sound of a song -
of angels, and strangers, and lovers who meet,
of drifters who pass, and go wandering on -
to a land where true love sings its music so sweet.
I see them marching, Procession through Time.
I hear the beautiful songs that they sing.
I hear the flowing of music and rhyme,
clear as a lark on a morning in Spring.
And I know it's still there -
riding the wind,
down a Heavenly Stair,
to remind us again.
( © 1996 - Betty Curtis -"Future Folk" Music )