In the shadow of the mountains, where the wild rivers flow,
I trace the path of dreams that linger, where the gentle breezes blow.
The roots of old connections run deep beneath my heart,
They whisper tales of wanderers who found their truest part.
With each step upon this journey, I feel my spirit rise,
Echoes from the valleys call, beneath the endless skies.
The stories of the ancients, like a soft and soothing stream,
Watering the seeds of faith that grow within my dream.
The river sings a lullaby, in the moon's soft silver light,
It carries all my worries, away into the night.
Reflections dance like memories, on the tranquil surface wide,
Reminding me of times we shared, when you were by my side.
As I climb these rugged peaks, the air is crisp and clear,
I find a strength within me that chases down my fear.
With every crack and crevice, the earth’s embrace is near,
And in the ring of echoes, I can feel you calling here.
So let the mountains stand, and let the river flow,
Through valleys rich with roots, in the life we've come to know.
With faith as my companion, I'll traverse this timeless span,
For in the whispers of the mountains, I find the heart of man.
In the quiet after sunset, with a peaceful, steady grace,
I carry all your stories, woven in my embrace.
And with each step I take, my spirit’s light will roam,
For the echoes of the mountain guide me gently home.
Folk
mountains, river, roots, echoes, faith