Wandering below the blue sky,
nestled silver water, holding memories
of the past, never fading, or never
leaving the heart.

In all walks of life, the wandering Jew,
in medieval legend, he did not let Christ
rest on his door steps. Christ will return
again, never to part.

Paint a lovely garden of God's finest art
Pondering the path where the hummingbird flaps
The spirit of the angels are playing their part
It's the beauty of the rose with thorns on the vine

Wind whispers a prayer in the heart in time of rain
The flourishing of the sun is like a warm summer dream
A prayer in the garden brings a light in God's sunshine
God opens the doors of Heaven with a bright sunbeam

Memories lives when dreams come true ,
In the Spirit of the Lord, a prayer is heard,
as a whisper in the wind, as it lifts a grain
of sand.

Through a window from up above, on the
silver shores, the Lord holds the bridge to
promised land. I am a lamb of God, may He
hold the palm of my hand, Amen!

(c)Johanna Fields