Spaces In Between

In this land where mountians tower high
And echoes wander slowly through the day
I stand alone forever in July
And listen to the passing disarray

Whispers I can hear beneath the breeze
Softly, as the sound of falling snow
Cursing as they pass the faded trees
To change the way the stoic currents blow

So all that falls beneath may rise anew
To places long forgotten and unseen
And beauty that before was out of view
Will fill the longing spaces in between