Last night of the turning year
I walked a snowbound hill
The sun's last rays not yet burned away
The sky was cold and still
And the moon shown like a Roman coin
Silver worn and bent
I have no tears now left to cry
My tears have all been spent
Wild geese resting in a field of hay
They preen and stretch their wings
Feathered beasts, the softest grey
Like willows in the spring
Watch them rise and take to wing
Giving voice in the evening air
Ah, my eyes feel the sudden sting
Of tears I swore weren't there
Tears of sorrow, tears of rage
That's all there is; there is no more
Tears for the hand in farewell raised
And the closing of the door
Where are you this winter night?
God keep you from all harm
May the wind that blows to you this night
Find you safe and warm
May your eyes always turn to morning
In some place you call your home
May your dreams all come to flower
May you find love of your own
I turned my collar to the rising wind
I turned my steps to home
Soft footfall behind me then
I did not walk alone
A small warm hand slipped into mine
Two eyes raised to my own
And the fairest flower of womankind
Stood by to lead me home