The ground is hard beneath my feet
As I walk a rocky path through the valley
Of the shadow of death
I hear his voice calling to me softly
As I traverse the cactus blooming
Along the side of the road
Itís so cold in the shadow of the mountain
Rising up majestically in the air
Covering the ground with shade
I search for a ray of sunlight as I climb
The steep and winding trails of my
Own personal Mount Sinai.
As I rise from the valley, I feel the
Kiss of the clouds and the wind caresses
My cheek with just a brush of her hand.
Sunlight peeps from the evergreens
Warming my face, my hands and my
Cold, cold heart.
Grass appears underfoot and the ground
Softens underneath my feet which are
Sore from the miles and miles I traveled.
I hear the whisper of his voice as I
Reach the summit of the mountain.
His voice welcomes me home.
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