Appalachian Ghost
I am an appalachian ghost
Trapped in a redneck soul.
I am an appalachian ghost
Confined to flesh and blood.
With iron in my blood and speed in my soul
Snow in my hair and dappled sun in my eyes
I am an appalachian ghost.
I am an appalachian ghost
Shaped by spirits, people and stories
On Potter’s hill.
Shades of lumbermen
come to greet me.
Blessings of my ancestors
come to meet me.
I sing the songs they play to me
On faded banjo strings.
I am an appalachian ghost
Shaped by lessons, people and love
On Mercer’s farm.
Nymphs of trees
come to greet me.
Voices of my past
come to meet me.
I write the songs they sing to me
On whispers in the wind.
I am an appalachian ghost
Shaped by troubles, people and pain
In Cameron’s town.
Murmurs of the people
come to greet me.
Faces of the mountain
come to meet me.
I dance the songs they play for me
In music of my heart.
I am an appalachian ghost
Shaped by knowledge, people and legends
Of Trinity’s Book.
Hope for the living
comes to greet me.
Father I long to know
comes to meet me.
I see the song He sings for me
In the colors of my past:
“You are an appalachian ghost
Given in a redneck soul.
You are an appalachian ghost
Granted to flesh and blood.
With iron in your blood and trees in your soul
Laugh on your lips and love in your eyes
You are My appalachian ghost.”