There were times when the fine film of thin dust
on the gloss of well-polished genuine leather shoes
spoke of long winding roads that led to a deep moment
frozen by the breath of new seasons on the brows of hills
and etched in spray paint on the skies of our yearnings

The long winding routes along windswept terrain
How they frustrated the wild dreams of youth!
Dreams of a surfeit of everything and a dearth of want
These roads we travelled believing we were not alone
are the archives of our extinguished hopes and dead dreams

We live in continual prayer that opportune moments
will once again come before us on some blessed day soon
and are certain that this time victory is ours to take
Our moments of elevation are well and truly nigh
They wait to be set in motion by the winds in the wishes