When the mist is on the river,
And the break of day is near.
The birds are just beginning to sing,
And the stars have disappeared.

When dewdrops shimmer like diamonds,
Upon a blade of grass.
And the wind is softly blowing.
And the moon is sinking fast.

When wild geese are flying overhead,
In formation they belong.
And the mourning dove,
with its lonesome call.
Is cooing a mournful song.

There's time of deep reflection.
Bringing peace into the soul.
As we touch, see and listen
God will make us whole.

Thanks be to our living God,
Who made this all for me.
I'll enjoy the mist upon the river.
And everything I hear and see.

© Al Albrecht

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