Floating, sweet upon the breeze,
Carried on winds, so fair and fine
Through mighty stands of birch and pine;
Whistling soft between the trees.

Fresh and warm, as from the west
Move flowers in a gentle dance,
Waving slow, as tho' in a trance;
Touching with a soft caress.

Falling gently from above,
A soft white mist onto the land
That nourishes all, beast and man;
Where still grows life, hope and love.

Moving, with a silent grace
Among the stones, so cold and grey
Which mark the spots, fore'er they lay,
Quiet, in this sacred place.

Ever cherished and held dear,
Of kin before us, all who came
And forged us from their blood and name;
Blessed souls, our hearts keep near.

To comfort, guide and please
My spirit, while still bound to earth,
Until it's welcomed to their hearth
To float, sweet upon the breeze.

Copyright © 2004 Dan MacDonald. All Rights Reserved. Reproduction without the express written consent of the author is strictly forbidden.

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