~by Clell G. Gannon
To hear the first sweet meadowlark of spring,
To hear the thrasher singing from the wood,
To hear the willet calling on the wing,
--That is good.
To feel the beat of clean and wholesome rains,
To see the wind, reverberating, swell
The fields of wheat and sweep across the plains,
--That is well.
To climb a butte when night begins to thirst
For draughts of light; to leave a world of strife
And at the butte's far top see sunrise burst,
--That is life!