A hand full of earth, A hand full of time,
The coming and going, And all of it mine.
The lake and the forest, The sky and the moors,
The coming and going, And all of me; yours.
My name in the sand, Soon gone with the tide,
Like the memory we are, The circle abide.
Where are the wise men? They’re no longer here,
This world of confusion, that’s governed by fear.
And what of the child born into war,
Whose tears reflect death,
Caught in the folly of violence and hate,
His soul departs early, his savior too late.
I saw you carried in mothers embrace,
Searching for answers, etched in her face,
And you life was so short, I often think why,
Your coming and going… just made me cry.
And, a hand full of soil, Stained dark and red,
The coming and going, Another child dead.
But your song carries on, And you will come again,
With no death in your tears,
And as pure as the rain.