Finding You*
With the morn breaking quiet
Through the serene tranquil mist
And fog, how oft me finds You
Peeping as if out of the hills,
And thick foliage, calming soft a feel,
And how me goes to hills there
Only in search of You,
Beauty of Innocence and Peace,
How every morn of our wakings
You as if peeping through me kiss,
O How oft me finds You
You the beauty of Innocence and Peace.
(*Note: the photo card as attached is done by me, featuring the hills, the morn breaking , worship flagposts fluttering in the chilly breeze, and my kid; the photo was actually taken by me once when we went touring the hills)
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