My mind winds through the fabric of time,
like the river carving over its ancient path.
Unconsciously flowing it always seams to travel back.

Do you remember that time so long ago?
Looking around I wonder, does the summer heat remember the snow?
One day everything seamed to melt away,
now a new way begins to grow.

Do you remember those ancient days,
in a distant land far away before a change wind began to blow?
sometimes my mind winds through the fabric of time and the old ways make themselves known