Ah Lord,
if only I stopped to listen,
        give attention, eyes closed;
at home I would hear
        the music of the West.

But I never slow down,
        no time, too busy, too much;
perhaps reason enough,
        I find life here.

Where allegro is exchanged
        for largo and long pauses;
a tempo more in tune
        with Sabbath-made flesh.

Ah, you lingered here once,
        and must’ve decided then
to give us ears to hear
        your own symphony.

Steady rhythm of water over rock,
        wind through the aspens soft;
now stronger, distant thunder,
        soon rain falling through trees.

Buzz of the hummingbird near,
        rising then falling away;
a birdsong calls out, wait for it,
        a distant lover responds.

The soft step of deer and doe
        on the pine needles;
nearby a bird warms up 
        to sing its solo.

Interrupted by laughter,
        from those I love inside;
the music of John Denver
        echoes in my mind.

Ah Lord, these give life
        to my exhausted soul;
restores my weary spirit,
        worn down by my race.

Thank you for the concert,
        reviving my soul
        with the music of nature.

Amen

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