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I.
When the mist of yon horizon unveils the mountaintop,
Will it reveal breath taking beauty or a barren place to stop? Has all loyalty vanished from a world beset by pain?
Is a friend a friend no longer or just a means to an end?
Have we lost our sense of values with priority a callous thing, That changes when the grass looks greener, but birds no longer sing?
Must we always vaccilate in a world of do and don't Never knowing where to go, nor what we really want?
?, be still my heart and listen for the sweet low sound of song, From the throat of one contented with a life sublime,
Where the things that really matter are the simple things of God.
The brightness of the morning sun, the dew, the greening, and the throng
Of birds and bees and daffodils, changing slowly with time,
And the steadfast love and loyalty of a friend, the greatest gift of God.