When the moon hangs over the mountain
In the middle of the day
And the leaves surrender and free fall
From their branches day by day
Then my soul stirs with the recognition
That winter is on its way
And I long for the fires of my home
On the mountain, to rest and to stay.
As the sun slips over the horizon
And the moon follows slowly along
The night will miss its lunar companion
As Mother Earth sings her seasons song.
I can hear her sweet refrains
As the melodies linger in my heart
When the moon hangs over the mountain
I know its time for me to depart.
For the road to the High Country beckons
And the cool, crisp air draws me near
As I follow in the footsteps before me
To the place that my heart holds so dear.
Featured photograph, “Blue Ridge Parkway, View Steestachee Bald”, from the Healing Spirit Art Ā© Collection of positive, inspirational, life-affirming fine art photography, writing and music š¶ by Teri Leigh Teed
