Can't get enough of sunshine,
nor the wind upon my face;
can't get my fill of clouds,
or God's great, loving grace.

Can't get enough of mornings,
with the hint of pink-tinged dawn;
can't get my fill of nature,
that shouts out heaven's song.

Can't get enough of sunsets,
that fill the air with paint;
or views that look forever,
off cliffs that make me faint.

Can't get enough of music,
that's pleasing to the ear;
or the warmth of your embrace,
when you are passing near.

Can't get enough of living,
let us love until the end;
when we depart this world,
that's coming round the bend.

I don't think that I can find you,
when you're wrapped up in your shell;
when you go inside yourself,
you're demeanor's hard to tell.

I can't sort what's right or wrong,
all I know is, there is trouble;
and I cannot penetrate,
the hardness of your bubble.

You still remain a mystery,
someone, I thought, I knew;
someone I thought I loved,
but now, I can't see through.

You've gone and lost your self again,
a transient to the world;
locked in a web of silence,
no longer seen, unfurled.

I don't think that I can reach you,
to the place where you have gone;
and you've faded in my thoughts,
like an old, forgotten song.

When the darkness falls,
I hope you'll be secure;
in a place of safety,
in which you will endure.

When the twilight comes,
I hope you have God's grace;
in the shelter of His arms,
where you may find a place.

When the darkness falls,
and what we know is gone;
destruction will prevail,
and life will be a pawn.

When stars no longer shine,
and the way is hard to find;
follow God's great light,
that permeates your mind.

When the darkness falls,
know that the end is near;
but with His precious love,
we've nothing more to fear.

Tell her that you love her,
if, in fact, you do;
that you'd be lost without her,
in, in fact, it's true.
That her voice is lovely,
it's music to your ear;
that joy just overflows,
whenever she draws near.
Tell her that you cherish,
her love throughout the day;
that your heart pines for her,
when she's far away.
That she's worth waiting for,
that she is your sweet treasure;
that no one else comes close,
by any count or measure.
Tell her that you love her,
if, in fact, you do;
that it was love at first sight,
if, in fact, it's true.

There is earth, and there is sky,
and then there's You -
abundant food and water,
and dreams we never knew.
There are hills and heaven,
created by Your hand;
peaks with year round snow,
high - aloof - and grand.
There is rain that falls,
giving life to everything;
flowering in the month of May,
kissed by summer's wings.
There are stars... all scattered,
like diamonds in the night;
comets racing out in space,
transformed by burning light.
There is the heart, the soul, and You,
and us; a bit lower than an angel's grace;
but in the image of our Maker,
God touched the human's face.

The wind is ever constant,
in subtle waves, it moves;
it's felt and yet unseen,
invisible, breezy grooves.

Magic fingers in the air,
weaves its tapestry;
quite refreshing to the face,
that knows but does not see.

The air is sweet in Springtime,
the kiss of genesis;
beginning every March,
ending in June's bliss.

Weep not for winter's death,
embrace instead the Spring;
that quickens every step,
in what the season brings.

The hint of love in blossom,
the touch of day-time showers;
the scent of perfume in the air,
from sunny, blooming flowers.

Shimmering, quivering, aspens,
bask in the evening sun;
peaks of the mountains high,
grow purple as day is done.

In the dense, dark pockets of spruce,
the streams run fast and clear;
the forest, strong and silent,
harbor the wolves and deer.

It's spring-time in Arizona,
the intrigue of nature's show;
in glorious sun and shadow,
that causes the heart to glow.

It's the stillness of the meadow,
that tempers the buzz of day;
that in quiet meditation,
shows its presence, now, in May.

I drink the nectar of splendor,
and gaze at the feast of the mind;
contented to be here... to see,
the painting, that I alone find.