I remember a place not long ago,
Where the brisk wind blows from the north,
Where the wild goose glides like the silent snow,
And the frozen winter comes forth.

The cold that wraps around is a blanket,
Pulling you into the cold storm.
Where your feet sink slowly into the snow,
Drifting into the quiet warm.

You won’t remember me, as I have been gone
For a while from this beautiful part.
But I can recall all the sights and smells
That are unique and come from the heart.

These things I remember are all from my home,
Where the wild geese chase and roam