From: cdale@silly.techmonkeys.net
Date: Fri Mar 31 2000 - 10:39:37 PST
"Ripple"
If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
and my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come through the music?
Would you hold it near, as if it were your own?
It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken;
perhaps they're better left unsung.
I don't know, don't really care.
Let there be songs to fill the air.
Ripple in still water,
when there is no pebble tossed,
nor wind to blow.
Reach out your hand, if your cup be empty,
if your cup is full, may it be again.
Let it be known there is a fountain
that was not made by the hands of men.
There is a road, no simple highway
between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go, no one may follow.
That path is for your steps alone.
Ripple in still water,
when there is no pebble tossed,
nor wind to blow.
You who choose to lead must follow
But if you fall you fall alone
If you should stand then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home
Ripple in still water,
when there is no pebble tossed,
nor wind to blow.
--Robert Hunter
This archive was generated by hypermail 2b29 : Fri Mar 31 2000 - 09:39:26 PST