In another time they will talk, they will say we had it all. We talk now about the love that was sent, from above or below. We spin back round to a place from before, in the summer breeze, like waves on a shore. The generations flow like a spring, each one finding grace beyond a words expectation, but now we return to that fountain in which we learned to love, and things are still the same.

But the echos build as our minds begin to flow, and we finally remember the lessons of old. Like a harvest in the sun, the world turns again upon itself and can see the grace that shines from within. Under the sun the people come together, to reap the harvest it has grown. We come together as one vibration, one day, one night, as we carry upon the winds an alter of life, spanning forth from the mountain the same echos we have always known. Bring it back, again to the river. We have only what the sun has shown, the land and ourselves is all we’ve ever known.