The time comes like destiny in its finest hour
The guardians of the sacred veil sense the fresh air
The mountain way becomes shrouded in white ...
Magical, billowing, white mists of time.
The Traveller realises his eyes are not playing tricks on him
For he sees mystical figures advancing forwards
Floating above the ground ... coming nearer ...
There with open arms –beckoning–
Far across the mountain side a bright light is seen
The sunrise of another day
And the shining of a different sun lights the pathway before his eyes
The magical light being replaced then by a glowing figure ... close ahead
A smiling face of a proud and gentle man turns to look at him
A bearded, kindly face of a man from home
Who’s kindness once changed a world
He is here ... he is now there ... his light can now be felt
The Shining Man is there before the Traveller’s eyes
And he ... the Traveller ... kneels at the kind man’s feet
Then he ... The Shining Man ... touches the Traveller’s face
And whispers to him, to go with him down the glorious road ...
And he ... The Traveller ... goes ....
(Written by Matthew James circa 1997)
