Tracing the Grain Lyrics

His fingers trace the grain

Ripples running through the wood

The light bands and the dark

Like a language misunderstood

Is he staring at the seasons

Is there some way he can tell

If the sun was kind in springtime

Or how long a hard rain fell

And if the grain was an ancient script

If he could read it what would it say

Would it tell which way the wind blew

And how the tree would sing and sway

He'd like to travel back in time

See where the roots held to the land

A windswept hill or sheltered valley

And know the history in his hand

He hears strange music in the treetops

His fingers move against the grain

Gently he plucks the strings

Perhaps the tree can sing again