Far Music

Drifting notes over the great fields of my mind,
I hear them playing in the wind
And all the thoughts I ever held
Will come to me again I feel.

All the ways I ever knew
To hear a note or think of you
I thought I would forget, perhaps
But here they drift in little heaps

And strings of ghostly notes
To me; I sit and in my mind sing
And feel with them again, again.
The melancholy notes I hear within.

The crooning, singing, playing memory
Of wind.
Over land and sea, country to country
Mind to thought and thought to soul

And here whispers one I know...