...
Lost...
When I painted sky Where the clouds are hung for the poet's eye
If you may find him, if you may find him There, on a distant shore, by the wings of dreams
Through an open door, you may know him If you may be
As a page that aches for a word which speaks on a theme that is timeless
And the one God will make for your day
Sing as a song in search of a voice that is silent And the sun God will make for your way
And we dance to a whispered voice Overheard by the soul, undertook by the heart
You may know it, if you may know it While the sand would become the stone
Which begat the spark, turned to living bone Holy, holy, song to a song to a being
As a page that aches for a word which speaks on a theme that is timeless
And the one God will make for your day
Sing as a song in search of a voice that is silent And the one God will make for your way
And we dance to a whispered voice Overheard by the soul, undertook by the heart
You may know it, if you may know it While the sand would become the stone
Which begat the spark, turned to living bone Holy, holy, song to a being
You may know it, if you may know it While the sand would become the stone
Which begat the spark, turned to living bone Holy, holy, song to a being
Holy, holy, song to a being
