This was the year
I opened my heart
And the dark met with light
Amongst shouting green fields
I ran with friends across tent
Filled hills
And we shared our quiet secrets there
For all the world to hear;
For the stone strewn streams to listen
And the silent ever giving trees to bear witness.

This was the year I moved and made waves
Hung the pictures of my soul on whitewashed
Walls, and people gathered and read the traces
Of my earth browned hands there.
This was the year I reached
And grasped the sun filled future
With both browned hands
And I can hear the echo now
Of words work done,
Shout quietly back off the hills
In this gentle Winter
And my friends wait open handed
At the gateway
I join them.