Peter Von Poehl Dust Of Heaven
Voices from the well
sing the latest news.
The river lost the race,
Steps were rolling down the stairway.
The ancient man above just
Can't make up his mind.
Dust of heaven in my hand.
Shadows at the door
Join the season's round.
An old tree broke its roots,
Now it's busking by the railway.
The ashes might be burning,
But fire signed a will.
Dust of heaven in my hand.