(a thousand years from now)
We once spent lives upon the earthen green,
upon those roads we traveled every day,
earthbound where only our souls did dwell,
while our minds would fly to heaven's shell.
And then we glanced upon the Milky Way,
and wonders there were truly seen.
Eternity was present there in space,
within creation's holy shining face.
We journeyed there,
into the heavens flung,
where stars are woven old and very young,
on tapestries of endless time they're strung,
to celebrate those songs
we've not yet sung.
And now our souls may journey to the stars,
to seething suns forever far,
where nothing ever seems bizarre,
and we are Pilgrims from afar.
