A bible, a painting
Pass on a sacred chanting
So the clouds will clear
And the sun will shine
As I am sitting here
Tracing with pencil line
May thoughts of the future
Be written words of the past
Or be a painted picture
Of a story that lasts

A birth, a death, a lifetime
Love, hate, punishment and crime
So the sky will rain
And the tides will rise
As I am witnessing pain
With my tearful eyes
May thoughts move mountains
And reshape the land
Ocean becomes love fountains
Then we need have no hand

Magic, power, sanity
Dead prayers in quantity
So the cries will sound
And eyes will search the slopes
As I am thought to be found
In a temple of hopes
May thoughts that put me up high
Return to their own minds
Don’t yearn, don’t wish, don’t sigh
Live with what the present finds.