Morning Mountain Mist

God gave me the title to this poem our first winter in Maine in 2001. HE gave me the words to the poem yesterday.
Ain't God GREAT!!! cm


Morning Mountain Mist

The morning is cold,
The air is crisp,
As I stroll up the road,
I see a beautiful
Morning Mountain Mist.

Treetops kiss the low-hanging clouds,
Branches sway in the breeze,
Freezing snow glistens, hugging the trees,
In this early Morning Mountain Mist.

My mind empty of troubles
I gaze upon a sight to behold,
Such beauty, a gift from God,
This Morning Mountain Mist.

A breathtaking view,
Words fail me, I cannot speak,
The glory of God in all His splendor,
This Morning Mountain Mist.

I am blessed by the sight,
I stand in reverent Awe,
An appointment arranged by the Creator,
This Morning Mountain Mist.

Snow gently falling,
A fog comes rolling in,
While the sun shines through I am lost
In this Morning Mountain Mist.

The fog clears, I see snow covered trees,
I am completely captured by the beauty,
Captured by The Saviour, lost in His love,
Lost in the beauty, of a Morning Mountain Mist.


By Candace Mills
July 18, 2007