That I’ve walked before?
The present sunlight falling,
Has closed open doors.
The sidewalk dirt is stamped,
With the years gone by.
Hence the raindrops falling,
From a tear filled sky.
Air touches skin,
Sounds touches ears,
These senses are sisters.
Souls cross thresholds,
With faces unseen,
In the song of whispers.
Those who lived and passed,
Never pass away.
Safe within their timelines,
They will always stay.
For the body is not immortal,
Yet the soul keeps on living,
To the ears of patient parts,
From heaven this song keeps giving.
Air touches skin,
Sounds touches ears,
These senses are sisters.
Souls cross thresholds,
With faces unseen,
Through the song of whispers.
Lives will come and go,
But can they be forgotten?
Is forever not the gift,
Of God’s only begotten?
There is no greater hope,
Then life can ever bring.
Then the gift of love,
Transcending everything.
Air touches skin,
Sounds touches ears,
These senses are sisters.
Souls cross thresholds,
Which only hearts can hear,
Silent song of whispers.
In silence hear their voices,
In silence the heart may hear,
The endless song of life,
Removing every fear,
This flame from God we carry,
Where ever we may go,
No hope is rendered hopeless,
The light of truth will show.
Air touches skin,
Sounds touches ears,
These senses are sisters.
Souls cross thresholds,
With faces unseen,
The song of whispers.
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