A cool breeze over an open field bends the tall grass gently as it passes.
LIke the cooling thoughts of my existence bend my will in their wake.
As the breeze passes by the tall grass straightens toward the sun.
Though these extraterrestrial thoughts hang forever on my will.
All but a blade of grass I am, week to the wind yet strong for the sun.
Blown over by the thought of failures, by the thoughts of defeat.
Thou rising strong to the sound of laughter to my ear, clear as loves warmth.
Let the ways of nature guide our hands, the way we know true in heart.
As the tall grass soaks the early spring dew, I seek comfort in knowing the truth.
Let the cool breeze bend our ways, but always remember to rise back to the sun.
The sun who provides our planet with life; the father of all that we see.
Oh father forgive us, for we have not risen to your light in sometime.
Keep shinning your guiding light, so that we may one day,
Bend upward to your bright smiling soul, and once again listen
To your powerful advice and heal our misguided ways.