I love the mountains, I love the wind

I love the mountains;

I love the wind 

it whispers secrets in my ears 

as it caresses my face.

I love the sun, the sun is heaven's eye.

When the sun dies in the evening sky,

what an enthralling sight.

It’s now alone with the moon,  

but when it resurrects at dawn,

it augurs the vigor of the new day.

At the distance the ocean sings, 

it sings a patriotic hymn.

Tears begin to fall crystal clear and cold.

The trees blanketing the mountains, 

laughing and clapping in jubilee,

their hands reaching to the sky 

tickling it with glee.

Flowers shout in one accord 

frolicking back and forth like children. 

I love the mountains; I love the wind.