Sometimes in the night I feel it
Near as my next breath and yet, untouchable
Silently the past comes stealing
Like the taste of some forbidden sweet.
Along the walls; in shadowed rafters
Moving like a thought through haunted atmospheres
Muted cries and echoed laughter
Banished dreams that never sank in sleep
Down the ancient corridors and through the gates of time
Run the ghosts of days that we left behind
Down the ancient corridors and through the gates of time
Run the ghosts of dreams that we left behind
Every ghost that calls upon us
Brings another measure in the mystery
—Dan Fogelberg
~