Hold the Morning

Beneath the high green canopy

The morning light falls soft and still

A winding path of moss and fern

Goes trailing up the quietly sleeping hill

The silver river murmurs low

Past roots of oak and stone and grass

The cool air carrying the scent

Of wildflower fields where shadows pass

Oh, hold the morning in your hand

Before the quiet tide moves on

The forest whispers in the wind

A tender song

Until the light is gone

A gentle hurt among the leaves

The subtle sweep of wooden bow

We leave our heavy thoughts behind

Where only gentle breezes blow

Oh, hold the morning in your hand

Before the quiet tide moves on

The forest whispers in the wind

A tender song

Until the light is gone

Softly now

The daylight fades in open air

And quiet sheets resting under leaves of green