Dust of time

(Brock / Bainbridge / Lloyd-Langton) Waiting in the valley of all creation Calling out a song for the state of the nation I am son born of father never related Frozen in a bank of ice essence liberated Looking from the future into the past Footprints of awareness approaching so fast Queues of sterile mothers waiting for inspection Populace diminished everywhere there is rejection Dust of time caught in your eye A fleeting glimpse gone in a sigh