I sing a song of long ago,

A song of ages lost,

A song of things you may not know

And what those things have cost.

I was a seeker then, as now,

As you, as all our kind;

We seek, we seek, and hope somehow

That someday we will find.

We came to Earth in ages past

From starry fields above.

We thought we'd found our place at last,

A home that we could love.

For we'd been wandering spirits who

Were looking for a home;

We hoped our wandering time was through,

With no more need to roam.

We saw in Earth an instrument

On which to play our song.

We thought that it would complement

The dreams we'd brought along.

But Earth then needed making

To the mold of our desire.

Our labors set it shaking

As we stirred its stone with fire.

We came as wind and lightning,

As clouds that poured forth rain,

As summer sunrise brightening

On golden fields of grain.

Our only guide was dreaming

For we were here alone.

The One who set us scheming

Had left us on our own.

But all of us were Makers,

Each knew our purpose well,

Though where it all would take us

No one of us could tell.

We all had come to do it,

So each one did his best

To give his vision to it

And blend it with the rest.

High summer sun, cold winter chill,

White clouds that climb above,

The golden meadow, green-sward hill,

We formed it all with love.