Hold this Dear Mountain
My heart does long for a mountain to hold
with deep embrace and prayers that unfold
into the sweetened winds as all things are told.
Do you see the rock, the boulder, the tree?
They are each a friend, they are dear to me.
The mountain waits. The ancients see.
They bid my heart. They set me free.
Rocky heights rush towards a heaven rare,
Oh Holy Spirit, I feel Thee there!
My Own is lifted, endowed in this air.
My soul soars throughout, like the wings of a dove
In embrace with the Earth, held so rare, high above.
Nature’s shoulders keep vigil, They see, They love.
Oh, hold this dear Mountain, it is the Lord’s Trove.
©2012 Linda Willows