There is rhythm in my travel, in the beating heart I hold,
I hear it in my breathing, in the stories I’ve been told.
It’s there in the air as the wind moves, it’s there in the chorus of life.
It forms tunes all around that I sing to, painting melody thick with a knife.
The songs ease the passage of distance, taking me places that I’ve never been.
I’m finding the truth in each step, and meaning in sights that I’ve seen.
I need to keep sure as we move, the direction we head still feels right.
The promise breaks brilliant ahead, behind nothing is left but the night.
This is the road of our Fathers, we have to return to their place.
But we know that we’re not moving backward, it’s an uncertain future we face.
The world had seemed scored to perfection, then the sweet voice spoke into the dark,
It started to play a new rhythm, dawn harmonies sung by the lark.
We sang legends and lyrics of promise, as we waited to hear what came next,
We sang songs that were bigger than all of us, of a world that is woven and flexed.
Of eras and ages before us, when the spirits danced over the seas,
When the ground that we walk on was forming, when they loved in the shade of the trees.
We sang of times before time was first counted, and wisdom held firm to each hand,
We wept when she told of its ending, as hate burned like fire through the land.
Now I hear something new in the distance, the rhythm becoming a beat,
It pounds in my heart and my soul, as we walk it is under my feet.
So this is the way of our journey, familiar yet totally new,
As we follow the songs of the future, and dance in the promise of you.
PICTURA POESIS 