Amy Garrett Weaver

Amy Garrett Weaver:

Civil Reset

A season of conflict, a time of great strife
When none can agree on American life
Tempers are flaring and agendas just clash

Oh what are we doing and how do we stop
All of the fighting to stay at the top
The civil unrest and the fighting within
Brings security down and a vengeance in men

No unification, no faith in our world
So many are wounded with liable words
I'm scared for my land; I'm scared for its heart
When anger abounds there's no place we can start

The future is bleak from the place where I stand
No brotherly love, just weapons in hand
Our country is bleeding from the torment within
And we've strayed way too far from where we began

A prayer for our nation and all that it is,
To the God we each know, whomever he is
Bring peace to our land and knowledge to know
How we stop all the fighting and again start to grow.

Mystic Melody

He slipped through the gate at the top of the hill
Though dark had just fallen and the night had a chill
He crept through the brush without making a sound
An attempt he did make not to damage the ground

Though the light in the trees through the moon overhead
Cast deep hollow shadows and from scenery bled
He kept to his task with his gift tucked in tight
To aid and to comfort was his journey and plight

With careful inspection and utmost respect,
He moved place to place ‘til at last he would rest.
He had found her at last, here alone in the night
So he quietly crept to be close to her side

Though the ground was so cold and the stone was quite sharp,
He warmed to be close and it quickened his heart
He knew she had waited so long for him now,
So he took out the case and he brought forth the bough

The warm wooden belly and delicate strings
Had been aching all night to be free and to sing
He played and he played his mournful sad song
As his heart beat for hers and his spirit did long

No smile did she offer, no clap, no encore,
Just silence rewarded his labor and chore
But deep in his heart, he knew that she heard
Without any thanks, without any words

So alone he went on in the dead of the night
To remember once more what she meant in his life.

Kristin Smith