The Trail

This place still feels the ragged feet,
that walked upon its ground,
and it holds precious those that are buried,
here and there in shallow mounds,

And still the vast expanse it does,
present its peaks so high,
appearing to be quite heavenly,
stretched forth amid the sky.

It harbors squeaky wagon wheels,
echoing ghostly in the night,
as the Mormon pioneers,
on its trail come back to life.

These people they did belong,
to this land as family,
given to them by God,
a gift,
this golden tapestry.
To the Mountain of the Lord,
This trail did guide them on their way,
that they would have the freedom needed,
to worship as they may.

And still this land it sits so reverent,
so noble and so great,
blessed by those revered of God,
HOSANNA! to his name.

Author Notes
Faith, and endurance gave us the west, which sits gallantly among its people. Digital Art Credits go to Luis Ayres.

© Dawn Michelle. All rights reserved, 2011