I hear the wind in the Pines
calling my name,
as though they are beckoning me,
to come forth and to answer
for sins of the past.

Sin's of the past are those of my father
and their fathers, before them, now gone.

For each of us must bear
all the anguish of ages
and make our amends
for those who have gone,
years before.

Here is a scene from long ago.
Owning a car, so you could go
To visit the relatives in clothes worn.
One's you knew, since they were born.
A great time, as a faded memory
Of what was and what will be.

The sunlight
spirals downward; caught
by the dust in the trees,
then burrows into the
piles of scattered leaves.
Life goes on, as Sun rays
spill toward the sheltered ground.
There is a golden silence
for the wind blows, not now.
It will resume in morning
hours, before the Rooster crows;.
Life is beautiful when you
hear the Songbird sing
about a song and ring
of light, from the Sun above
filled with warmth
and with love.

Walking through a stand of trees
Snow is deep, up to my knees.
Keep on moving, if you please,
Moving so my toes don't freeze.
This happened prior to Gore-Tex days
When snowy water wet your boots,
Soaked your socks; froze your toes.
Why we did this? No one knows.