Treasure

There's a flower in the hand of every child

And sunlight passes through the morning mist

Long blades of grass bend in the wind

Innocence discovered then

Now gone

Through the trees a stream flows endlessly

Frozen to the bed there lies a stone

Waiting to be hurled into the air

Anger bred without a care

Remains

In the deepening stillness of the night

There's a treasure wishing there was light

Buried in a sea of disillusioned eyes

Plagued by a voice within that cries

Misunderstanding

You're all misunderstanding

Silent is the willow-it's ashes floating toward the sky

From where rain slithers down upon the field

Washing blackness into the stream

Life reborn within the seams

Of itself