Morning touched the painted walls, Bread and dust in open hands, Golden streets and quiet calls, Simple, fragile plans. ... No one saw the sky grow wide, No one felt the turning tide. ... Where the light stood still, Where the light stood still, Voices caught between the seconds, Hearts against the will. Where the light stood still. ... Fresco dreams and woven vines, Footsteps pressed in stone, Half-written words, unfinished lines, Lives that stood alone. ... Time was breathing soft and slow, Then refused to let them go. ... Where the light stood still, Where the light stood still, Shadows frozen in the daylight, Silent on the hill. Where the light stood still. ... We walk as guests upon their ground, We speak their names in quiet tone, Ash may keep what once was found, But love outlives the stone. ... Where the light stood still, Where the light stood still, Not in anger, not in thunder, But a deeper will. Where the light stood still, Where the light stands still. ... Still… Still…
