Those that gaze into heaven's unknown say to my poor wretched soul.

All that I need is a touch from above.

Just a breeze of hope to gently move my sail along it's way.

They tell me to rejoice and to sing the wonderous songs of my youth.

When my heart was so filled with glee.

They tell me not to put pity upon myself to breathe the air of gratefulness.

Oh! How I wish above the stars of heaven that I could rejoice and not let tears of pity drip from my face.

That I could boldly stand with those who gaze toward heaven's Way.

Waiting for the touch that will stir my soul.
...