The forest dons its autumn veil
Of falling leaves, along the trail.
A painted carpet overwhelms
My venture into nature's realm.
The worn and weary path I take
Has disappeared beside the lake.
This glimpse of Heaven where I stand
Is, surely, work of God's own hand.
Across the water, miles away,
My journey's quest is on display.
It's brilliant cap can only be
A pure white crown of deity.
The mount, so distant, yet so near,
Is master of this mortal sphere.
Emblazoned by the setting sun,
Our finest hour has begun.
The tabernacle of my soul
Is wearing out and growing old.
Before I bridge that great divide
My temple must be laid aside.
This woodland shroud of gold and red
Will, rightfully, reclaim its dead,
But, God shall grant eternal breath
Beyond the reservoir of death.
We made a covenant, you see,
The mountain, forest, lake and me.
They vowed to touch the hearts of men,
And, I agreed to let them in.
They sculpted majesty and grace,
That I do honor and embrace.
As autumn fades, the lake is lost.
When winter comes, I'll walk across.