| I hear a sound and turn to see
|
| A new direction on that rusty weathervane
|
| Suddenly the dead brown leaves are stirred
|
| To scratch their circle dances down the lane
|
| And now the sturdy oaks start clappin'
|
| With the last few stubborn leaves that won’t let go
|
| I can hear Old Glory snappin'
|
| And her tattered rope now clangin' against the pole
|
| And my breath is snatched away
|
| And a tear comes to my eye
|
| Feels like somethin’s on the way
|
| So I look up to the sky
|
| I look up to the sky and
|
| From the corners of creation
|
| Comes the Father’s holy breath
|
| Ridin' on a storm with tender fierceness
|
| Stirring my soul to holiness
|
| Stirring my soul to holiness
|
| I see the lifeless dust now resurrected
|
| Swirling up against my window pane
|
| And carried 'cross the distance
|
| Come the long awaited fragrances of earth and rain
|
| And out across the amber field
|
| The slender grasses bend and bow
|
| And kiss the ground
|
| And in them I see the beauty of the souls
|
| Who let the Spirit lay them down
|
| And it takes my breath away
|
| And a tear comes to my eye
|
| Feels like somethin’s on the way
|
| So I look up to the sky
|
| I look up to the sky and
|
| From the corners of creation
|
| Comes the Father’s holy breath
|
| Ridin' on a storm with tender fierceness
|
| Stirring my soul to holiness
|
| Stirring my soul to holiness
|
| And like a mighty wind blows with a force I cannot see
|
| I will open wide my wings, I will open wide my wings
|
| I will open wide my wings and let the Spirit carry me
|
| From the corners of creation
|
| Comes the Father’s holy breath
|
| Ridin' on a storm with tender fierceness
|
| Stirring my soul to holiness
|
| Stirring my soul to holiness |