Alive

The word is there, it sings and moves,

Alive,

As pine needles in the wind, it's music,

Alive,

Before the dawn breaks, it's wisdom unfurls,

Alive,

A faint whisper of that which is to come,

Alive,

And is of now, known only to itself,

Alive,

For all of us who heed it's foretelling,

Alive,

And hear it's song, wonder in the music,

Alive,

Share it's wisdom, listen to the whisper,

Alive,

Move with it, try and break it's autonomy,

Alive,

Cherish the word for eternity in our hearts,

Alive,

We shall keep this thought forever, and be,

ALIVE.

© 1978 Carl Erickson