Must lose it's faith in leaves And dream of the spring inside the trees. How heavy the empty heart, How light the heart that's full. Sometimes I have to trust what I can't know Sometimes I have to trust what I can't know
The angels lend us shoes. Outside this womb of words. With every rose that blooms It's just like a song I've known
And every leaf of fire lets go, Melting in the arms of earth and snow. And if I could hold you now, You'd be the wind that blows You'd be the spring-filled trees More from Beth Nielsen Chapman