I have walked these fields
I have known this land
And though the years have changed the face
The memory still stands

Of a time when things were simpler
Of a time when hope was pure
Of a time when changing weather
Was all of which we were unsure

And I have seen the sun rise
Over fields of green and gold
Now that view is just a memory
And I know I'm getting old

Can it be that earth is failing?
Can it be that light has dimmed?
Can it be that we've abandoned
all the life that we once lived?

     Is it any wonder
     that our children can't get over
     just the smallest of infractions
     when the world falls all around them?

     For constancy is foreign
     in a land of no intentions
     where a lost appreciation
     for sacredness of life abounds.

I cannot pretend
To understand it all
For as often as I wonder
Equal am I inclined to fall

For I am of a generation
Which forgets itself began,
Wanders aimlessly through atmosphere
And defiles its fellow man

And over weakness, few have triumphed;
Through affliction, few have prevailed
And reverence for creation
Is an instinct we have failed

But our days are not yet over
For this one hope stands unmoved:
We are still formed of the same dust
Whose strength our ancestry has proved.

     Is there any remnant
     of the spirit deep within us
     that might once again remember
     the great faith we once achieved?

     There is far greater meaning
     found in one hopeful sentiment
     than in a thousand shouting voices
     denying all things once believed.