Kindred Tread

[Verse 1]
Heard a cardinal's whistle, sharp and clear, through the hemlock on the hill.
Those old work boots by the screen door sill, standin' quiet, standin' still.
Worn-out leather, scarred and deep, held the loam from creekbed clay.
Wish I'd listened closer, 'fore the wind carried his words away.

[Chorus]
These old boots fit me like a mountain song, a rhythm I was born to claim.
With every step, I'm rooted deep and strong, whispering his forgotten name.
Yeah, the gravel dust beneath my heel, tells a story I now own.
These Kindred Treads, a truth I finally feel, bringing wisdom to my bones.

[Verse 2]
Now I mend the fences, split the kindling wood, just like he taught me how.
See the forest canopy, understood, the shade it offers now.
The quiet strength in burdock's grip, holds the earth from wind and rain.
It’s in these boots, I finally slip, walking out of yesterday's pain.

[Bridge]
The mountain echoes, old and deep, of things I didn't understand.
But now these roots run strong and steep, across this hard and hallowed land.
There's a silent language in the grit and grain, a wisdom steeped in sweat and years.
And though the bramble catches, through the sun and rain, no room left for silent tears.

[Outro]
These Kindred Treads, they carry me on.
Feel his strength with every coming dawn.