High up in the mountains,

Where the wind sings in the trees.

There’s an awesome, silent presence

That brings me to my knees.

 

I believe, God lives here.

 

In the early morning hours,

As the birds greet each new day,

With sweet melodious voices.

I can almost hear them say,

 

We believe, God lives here.

 

As the sun begins it’s journey,

Across the sky, blue and clear,

All the flowers seem to whisper,

Loud enough for me to hear,

 

We believe God lives here.

 

When the hush of evening settles,

And the sun sinks in the west,

Comes the feeling of contentment,

As I lay me down to rest.

 

Then I know, God lives here.

 

 

This poem was written by my mother on 8/8/75 Tiny Brown