My Mountain, Your Mountain
I introduced myself at the store: "I saw you walking,
up on my mountain." You raised a skeptical eyebrow:
"Which one is your mountain?" And I blushed, stammered.
Obviously: It was your mountain, for you. Now I see farther.
You spoke to me of Spirit, and said, "My god."
When I heard the wind in your voice, the call of the wild
winged return from emerald realms,
and that low sweet note of love's own satisfaction, oh!
It was My God. Calling.
Where you go I will go.
Where you stay, I will, also.
Your friends call me to discover
why you're singing.