A childhood's vibrant canvas,
A memory so sweet,
Again and again that story,
The past, my heart does greet.
A childhood's vibrant canvas,
A memory so sweet.
Hidden in mother's shawl,
To forget each ache and tear,
On scraped knees, a healing touch,
Her balm, I hold so dear.
On scraped knees, a healing touch,
Her balm, I hold so dear.
Years have passed, some bonds now frayed,
Broken, never to mend,
In those moments, anger flares,
Then making up, my friend.
Faces all turned, hostile now,
Loved ones seeming strange,
To embrace each face, each heart,
That touch, I rearrange.
To embrace each face, each heart,
That touch, I rearrange.
Again and again that story,
The past, my heart does greet.
A childhood's vibrant canvas,
A memory so sweet.
With dreams unlived, nights are heavy,
Sleep finds no gentle hold,
On every dream's soft, silken bed,
To arrange, a story told.
Even worship, a commerce of hope,
God, and all that's above,
To bow my head before the sweetness,
That reverence, I love.
To bow my head before the sweetness,
That reverence, I love.
In the world's loud, incessant noise,
My own voice unheard,
That lullaby's sacred chant,
My soul, forever stirred.
That lullaby's sacred chant,
My soul, forever stirred.
Again and again that story,
The past, my heart does greet.
A childhood's vibrant canvas,
A memory so sweet.
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