The sun rises on dawn-mists as dew
Dances light on the loam.
The waking world arises anew.
This is what I know. This is my home.
The droning of eager bees bringing
Pollen back to their comb.
The gentle breeze joins the birds singing.
This is what I know. This is my home.
The fawn plays on the turf while bluegill
Swim in the river foam.
The stretching oaks are stoic and still.
This is what I know. This is my home.
On grave markers, aged leaves come to rest,
Their colors light the stones.
How happy are the sleepers, how blest.
This is what I know. This is my home.
So glad is the peace of this wonder
That I will never roam.
Heartbreak will not daunt me, nor thunder.
This is what I know. This is my home.