Where the mind wanders without fear
Treading gingerly
On sacred grounds
‘Neath skies of blue and gray.
Where young hands toil
Treasures from Mother Earth,
Uncovering secrets
The weary garden keeps.
Where the heart hums music
In different voices sung
Hand in hand each day
A choir of angels dance.
Where the spirit walks free
To follow a trail unknown
Simple truths await
A young pilgrims journey home.
Where justice, love and friendship sleep
Within her bosom dream
Incessant bells of freedom toll
The stirrings of the soul.