Atop a hillside,

I turn my eyes,

And watch the sun rise

In the east.

 

I close my eyes,

And I visualize,

How far we have come 

From the east.

 

Our mothers and fathers,

Their sons and daughters,

Have fought to be free

Of the east.

 

I carry their bones,

Their hearts,

And their homes

That are now far away from the east.

 

As the sun warms my face,

I find my own pace,

Down that path that's been laid at my feet.

 

It leads to the west,

Where the sun goes to rest,

But it stretches unseen from the east.