White Light

Oh, the village of the hill, sitting silently at will

Like some prophecy forgotten by an age

With no guns before its gate, the mysterious estate

Lies waiting for it's history dawning page

With the raging of the sea before its height

And the strength of those whom see beyond their sight

Oh, the smithies anvil rings and the symphony it sings

No voice nor poet's pen can put to tune

And electric lines of force ring around the humble lives

Of the souls that hear the master saying soon

With the clouds that gather near disturb the night

Striking flashes of a difference, fleeing fright

No sleight of tongue nor hand can so boldly there withstand

When the spirit of its truth shall speak with time

And no ignorance of life can be held within the sight

Of the buttresses of ageless binds of time

The communion of the forces take delight

With the fear that no tongues may read nor write

A white light

Oh, the village of the hill, sitting silently still

With the strength of ages past they're still at hand

Reckons not to look behind, but to look within and find

And to hear of those enlightened by the lamb

With the powers of the wind both fierce and light

And the waters of the storm went through the night