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When I visit another place, another state, another note Who writes its hope, its grace, its peace From the gentle rains, the tranquil rivers and streams The broken tears of a mourning dew, silent as the joy Who abides in those who hear His gentle falling from the glistening Serenity of a faded moment, a healing faith, stillness So surprising it feels like it will never fade. When I visit some glorious gorge, some spirit of freedom Pouring over the wisdom etched in a beautiful Splendor rising beyond the temptation of a music, Songs blowing over the edge of her goodness, Enriching lives, inspiring joy, stilling the winter’s ice With springlike memories, summer’s solstice, Autumn’s flowing, trembling…. When I visit the shores, the hills, the pastures and fields, Blessed by the tunes of star strewn skies, Glistening moon and endless, summer smiles, Fireflies burning through the nights, twilight melodies In crisp, cool evenings, blurred by the softest Hues of melancholy, bleeding through the gentling, Amazing and risking all the wonders, peppered scenes Blazing trails of rich, clear beauty, near the end of a quiet journey… While my mountain home sits, restfully Beneath the luscious blue ridges, their destiny Shattered layers of fragile reflections On the hills, where leftover moments breath Endless dreams, stirred by the waters of gracefully Flowing clean as the heart who believes, Never doubting the wonder of His light, Dropping hope into the wind, the streams, Hesitating prayers on the hearts who hear Placid forests, woods sheltering Relaxed worlds – faded havens for deer, Turkey, fox and raccoon, rabbits so soft… delicate birds… Mountain mornings remember the details Fragile folds of feelings, flavored With yesterday’s promises, the praises Echoed across the ridges, against stars, moon Singing, the news of life beyond her soothing, Winds relieve the breathless duty, Washing the moments in a healing, restoring Broken shadows with a tenderness, Remembering… oh, how I remember when… Her silence bid joy to my nights, Her grace reassured me of the light, Her beauty stirred hope on the inside… Oh, how I remember – how I love her My mountain home moves me, She is surely a soul whisperer, My mountain home, where harmony sings To the wind, the creek, the shadows Even in grief, she is like a gentle grace, Overflowing with goodness, Bursting with hopefulness, So full of love that you just know She’s a gift from above, Sent to those who value her peaks, And, linger to weep because she’s so steep Her caverns and trails – they cannot speak, But, oh my friend… how loud they weep!
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