I Know Whose Woods These Are.

I know whose woods these are, I know

The wind below and falling snow.

A measure of time lost to the years

the way I found, a path to forgo.

These woods belong to the One above

He watches the trees and birds with love

the animals are wrapped by graceful arms

as He sends forth His pure white dove.

I ran through the clearing, unaware

of His breath, resting upon my very hair.

He covers me with His grace unearned

For He is with me, and constantly there.


2 thoughts on “I Know Whose Woods These Are.

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