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The Trail
The trail in the Winter is lonely
The loneliest place I know
But the trail is the place that I go to
When my troubles I can't let go
The howl of the wind keeps me company
And it's stiff cold slap on my face
Awakens me to the moment
A moment that is filled with God's grace
I remember the sweet smell of Summer
The colors still fresh on my brain
But the odors and colors of Summer
Are replaced by the dampness and rain
Yet the pull of the trail is a strong one
And nothing could keep me away
Not ten pots of gold and a promise
That it all could be mine someday
'Cause the trail is my church and my temple
And no greater peace can be found
Than the peace and the glory around me
That in the forest abounds
Written by Sara Fielder © 1997
poem
by
Sara Fielder
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