I walk a path of hidden stone
with footsteps here and there,
I walk it slowly and alone,
a path not many dare.
It leads me to the ocean's shore
I touch the sand and sea,
there weaving in and out,it roars,
so endless and so free.
The path still winds on to a stream,
I cross a bridge of oak
and in the clouds I see a dream,
The flash, a lightning stroke.
I cross a field that stretches far
as night begins to rise,
I see a wish,a shooting star
as daylight slowly dies.
The wind is wakened from its sleep
as on the path I walk along,
I hear it crying, see it weep,
I feel the sadness of its song.
The path now leads into the sky,
a beam of moonlight light my way,
it climbs still on the wings of high,
beneath the world at sleep it lay.
Then at the Cliff, at top I stand
and see the vast earth spread.
Before me lay both sea and land,
I see the path that lead.
I see it's made of silver stone,
I hold a dream of light,
I stood there in the dark,alone
and knew I had to write.