Black velvet night, and cold steel days,
Sprinkled with stars, whipped by wind,
Which curls the leaves as they fall,
Turning our lush green into grey.
Into the underworld the sun.
Doors of light are closing now,
And lives flutter in the wind,
Cemeteries with bright new stones wait
Winter’s cold to blur and crack,
Winter is death, and Spring is birth,
Summer swells with light and youth,
Autumn blows our candles out
And tells us to prepare the Way.
The Way is dust the way is stone
The Way will always lead us home.
I take your hand I pass it through,
The web of life both false and true,
The Way before the Way behind,
We pass through portals of the mind.
Its folded wings will keep us safe,
When trees drop gold and turn to wraiths,
When cold bites cheeks and makes us cry,
The Way will never ask us why?
But picking up the silent load,
Upon our backs we soldier on,
Through all the portents of the sun
Until we reach our lonely end.
The Way is dust the Way is stone,
The Way will always lead us home.