Memory
As I wrought in the fields of time one day,
I passed through the valley of beauty, of things that were hidden away.
To the east and to the west and to all the horizon
There were hills and mountains of blue, and gold, and gray.
There were clear rivers glist'ning over rocks that were crystal white.
There were flowers that bloomed in the shade of a thousand lights.
There were stars that shone from the heaven, writing in the silent speech of the night.
A people had lived there in that valley one day.
They had sung and laughed and some times would cry or pray.
As I or you live in the trend of this song that ends in the close of the day.
A Praise—In Memory of Keturah
She was once upon earth, but now she sings through the fields of the stars.
She once knew distress, hunger and tears.
But now they feed her at Alleuher's own table through the centuries and years.
She is a servant of Mosier up there. With the host of the angels and the saints of the air.
O Alleuher's great tribune watching over the earth and its hosts of tears.
I heard her voice from the plains of the stars talking to the world with the fire of speed.
O Alleuher, the angels unfolding the glories of heaven to me,
And I rise with the hosts' glad refrain above the earth and the sea.