Sunday, May 26, 2013

Mountain Prayer

I came up here to say a prayer
Not really knowing where I’d be
Perhaps beside this ancient tree
With branches in the mountain air

If age grants wisdom to a man
What meaning in a grove of these
Whose shuffling branches still withstand
Through centuries of frost and breeze

How can I know the language here
That fills this ancient solemn grove
So fluent with the God I seek

In truth He seems not far away
I think He’s been right here before
And knows the words I cannot speak

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