My Secret Place

The wind whispers through the lowly pine,
Like a song it is carried into the valley.
I hear it high upon the ridge howling,
Even far into the canyons below me.
A quiet stream runs freely over the rocks,
For it seems to sing so loud and long.
Above me the birds begin to sing in their song,
Making aware my presence is known.

Through the wood I hike onward,
The scenery seems to change around every bend.
From the pines to the big oak and hickory trees,
A song still echoes within.
Prevailing winds again start to blow,
Carrying the leaves as it goes.
The rustling of them make a sound,
Their voices are still heard all around.

In sweet accord like in harmony,
I find a melody in its call.
Enchanting voices from the mountain,
As seen through a rippling waterfall.
The winds from the trees make their sound,
Like when they begin to move and sway,
In reverence they seem to dance to the sun,
For what is left of from the day.

I onward walk heading towards home,
For the light now I notice as it begins to fade.
I still see the pathway though dimly lit,
From the moon that shines upon my way.
When I near my cabins front door,
I hear that voice again.
Like to hear it speak and say goodbye,
You are my old, yet familiar friend.

I stand before the last time before the nigh,
And I look up to my god to pray.
I give thanks for his song,
That I hear on my walks every day.
Also I thank him for watching over me,
For letting me see his face.
Through everything that I saw on my journey,
That remains sacred in my secret place.

For it is his song which shall remain,
And my heart shall rejoice forevermore.