Poetry of Enlightenment

Those gone before are now the riders upon the winds of the Spirit that will once come as they went

Longing for a space in time to gain the lost

Winds shall blow the riders sing upon the wings
If you listen they shall bring heaven down

Sweeping over the soul
Lost in history found in eternity as we know
You can not see the winds
Nor tell the way it blows

Ghost Riders of the sky looking beneath as they ride

Thousands upon thousands in a group as heavens riders

Pure and bright coming in the clouds we see them then and then now

One place in time from the eternal minds
Riders they are riders we shall be

Look up high the Ghost riders in the skies