Time...
Dear mother, do you see the traveller?
Louder...
The furthest star is brighter still
Than any kingdom standing in the potter's field.
Our hunger wanders in the fold,
And the air of love is taking hold
Of any memory left unsung –
Stinging in my hands or caught beneath my tongue.
If I'm to wander your unending skies alone,
Can you find my heart and claim her life as your own?
Falling down in the air of love,
And the voice I know is getting louder.
Winds of time through the frozen line,
And the wings of hope are getting stronger.

INVIA LE CORREZIONI