The clouds cling low to the mountain top this morn
I wonder if I climbed to the peak
Could I reach skyward and touch the hand of God?
The waterfall is loud with her praise
In the quiet misty dawn
If I look into the calming pool
Would I see the reflection of His face?
Baby birds and adults too, sing sweetly
Their morning praise sounding far and near
If only I could sing their language
I would join their song in harmony
Instead here I sit and let them go on alone
To call to a part of my soul, awaking it
With a hunger of its own, it soaks all in
I see a pair of playful squirrels
Uncaring I watch their dance before dawn
The lonely call of an owl saddens me
It brings to mind the many lost
Who do not, still, see the love of God
All around in the beauty of creation
Not with their eyes or with their heart
The soft breeze stirring touches my cheek
As to dry the tears that freely flow
Moved by the intensity of God's love
And for the many who will never know it
Written: by Phyllis Coats
April 8, 2000