Your voice still ripples through the night,
Soft, tender and yet shining bright,
A warm moon rising in the east
The gentle touch that calms the beast.
You after all these years remain
The morning fog that keeps me sane,
A place of solitude and rest
The wellspring of my sunshine best.
The seasons change and I grow old
Yet I don’t fear the lines untold,
For truth is silent and will fight
To turn wrong doings into right.