"Ashes & Orchards"

Once stood a valley, golden and bright,
Rows of apple trees bathed in morning light.
Seasons would dance through branches so tall,
But fire came raging, and it took them all.
Smoke filled the sky, turned day into night,
Whispers of embers stole all the life.
Nothing but ashes, nothing but pain,
But hope has a way of growing again.
He walks through the cinders, a seed in his hand,
Turning the sorrow back into land.
Where fire once swallowed, new roots will rise,
He’s planting tomorrow beneath the burnt skies.
Hands calloused and weathered, dirt on his skin,
He’s seen destruction, but he won’t give in.
One tree at a time, he kneels in the ground,
Dreaming of orchards where life will be found.
Smoke filled the sky, turned day into night,
Whispers of embers stole all the life.
Nothing but ashes, nothing but pain,
But hope has a way of growing again.
He walks through the cinders, a seed in his hand,
Turning the sorrow back into land.
Where fire once swallowed, new roots will rise,
He’s planting tomorrow beneath the burnt skies.
Years will pass, the rain will come,
Green will return beneath the sun.
Children will laugh in the shade of the leaves,
Thanks to a man and the hope that he seeds.
So when the fire takes all that you know,
Scatter your sorrow, let something grow.
For even in ashes, even in pain,
The hands of a dreamer bring life once again.

Rustic Bluegrass with Banjo, Fiddle, and Foot-Tapping Rhythm