Morning Light

Morning Light
As the sun rises above the purple mountains,
It hits the shining white towers.
The mist rises,
And a garden of beautiful paradise is revealed.
Tiny flowers of such delicacy bob and weave
In a gentle breeze that carries a fragrance of pure delight.
As you follow the stone path,
You reach two oaken doors.
This is the house of the Lord, my Savior and God.

By Laila Wilcox & Kirstin Glenn