Lyric

Pushing open the little gate

The pathway looks the same

Green growing through the stone below

Just where it always came

Past the tall and wandering grass

Toward the patch of shade

The old bench waiting underneath

Like it never moved away

The sound of leaves above my head

Turning slowly in the light

Every time I come back here

Summer finds me first

The white flowers by the garden wall

Bloom before a word

The shape of shade beneath the tree

The watering can nearby

Everything I almost forgot

Waiting where I left it behind

Untangling a climbing vine

That wandered past the fence

Sitting on the warm stone path

Watching shadows stretch

Clouds reflected in a bucket

Resting by the hedge

A bird I've heard a hundred times

Calls somewhere ahead

An open page

A familiar place

The afternoon keeps turning

Every time I come back here

Summer finds me first

The white flowers by the garden wall

Bloom before a word

The shape of shade beneath the tree

The watering can nearby

Everything I almost forgot

Waiting where I left it behind

Nothing new is growing here

And somehow that's enough

A season folded into leaves

And sunlight on the path

Every time I come back here

Summer finds me first

The old gate and the crooked branch

Still know where they belong

The shape of shade beneath the tree

Falls softly at my side

And for a little while again

Last year's summer comes alive