The grass bowed in the quiet evening
while five hundred children
stood by like lambs.
Awaking a symbol of love
With their smiles.

The sweetest sound broke forth
To cheer the stars above
While the children all lit candles
For every nation
I could hear a drum resound

Like flowers by a meadow stream
Such grace was revealed
When at last I could see their faces
There I fell to the ground
And began to dream

In my dream I followed the children
Into the coldest winds
Wondering if I would die, following love
Then soon the sweetest weight
Proved to be light

A burden was lifted from my fearful heart
with such gladness I was filled
When the cold winds led to a pathway
Where the souls gone before
Now quietly lived

I charged ahead of the children
To meet the ones I loved
But like flowers by a meadow stream
I was held in place
By the hands of precious time

I awoke crying on the grass that bowed
In the quiet evening
Where five hundred children once stood
Wiped a tear from my eye and smiled
As I lit my own candle of love