The winds of leave are calling me,
to walk away from here,
To enter in, a blowing leaf,
to enter in with fear,
And fear is not a frightful word,
when we give it to the wind,
For the wind it speaks a perfect word,
to bring us home again.
So haste the day to heed the call,
for it comes from deep within
And swirls its voice around us all,
as a shrill, unyielding wind.
Remember last, the storms that passed,
as you step into the flow,
For soon the bell tolls for us all,
when there is no choice to go.
And so then fear becomes our cloak,
and the wind becomes our guide,
And tarry not from fear's great yolk,
nor from the howling cry.
The storm it treads just overhead,
shedding darkness like a wall,
Still, shut your eyes, seek not the light,
but hear the winds great call.
Although the dark will leave its mark,
stay tuned to hallowed sound,
and hold to fear, for in the dark,
in fear, can trust be found.
