Cheryl Wheeler Little Road
How can there be trouble in this world?
With the color in these hills, the blue October sky,
this little road that winds along the river.
Dusty barns and tractors in the fields
And families sit in front yards, or stand outside the
churches
Kids are throwing footballs and pulling carts of
pumpkins
And the morning sun is sparkling on the water
How can there be such trouble in this world?
Where the mountains roll so gently,
Deer graze on the hillsides, birds chat on the phone
lines
The whole wide world's a prayer for Sunday morning
The geese inspect the stubble in the fields
And all along the roadside, families stop to wonder
At the new October morning
And a red tailed hawk is circling
And a father hugs his daughter
And an old man holds the car door for his wife to come
and see
Then they turn and smile at me.
How can there be such trouble in this world?
I know of course I know that this is not the only
picture
I don't of course I don't know what to do.
But the road keeps winding through the afternoon
And it doesn't know the sorrow or an inkling of the
shadow
of the rage across the water, the hatred and the
horror.
It just wanders through this valley with the river by
its side
As the light fades from the sky
The beautiful light fades from the sky
