My Home (The Rocky Mountains)

My home is a place way up in the sky,

Where you can touch the clouds as they float by.

The summer skies are golden fire,

But there’s still snow.

Rock hard ground rises about you on all sides,

But this place is anything but low.

Here the earth and the heavens meet.

Never have you felt so grounded,

But here you can fly way above the city streets,

And every breath is a prayer silently spoken.

My home is a place way up in the sky,

Where you can touch the clouds as they float by.