These Mountains are My Home
From the black rock country of the Columbia, across the misty mountains along the
Spokan, up the Dearborn to the Missouri and the Great Falls
These mountains are my home.
I have traveled many miles, years,
lifetimes it seems.
From the Great Falls to the Grand River
These mountains are my home.
Across the Desolate Plains,
Into the Badlands and to The Sheltered Valley
I have traveled, buried companions, buried friends but all along my Spirit Soared
Like the Eagle high above
These Mountains are My Home
Down the windswept Plains
Across the Flint Hills
Along the Brazos
My senses long for the sweet smell of ponderosa, spruce and fir.
My feet ache for the soft ground and sweet beauty of the high mountain meadows
For the Mountains are my Home
The old yellow horse nudges me awake,
His low nicker telling me that it is time to go
Together we saddle up and ride
The mountain horse and I
Each footstep, each day brings us closer
Closer to the Great Shining Mountains
The horse travels on eager
Longing for the sweet mountain clover
For he, like I knows
The Mountains Are my Home
Across the Llano Estacado we ride
For we are beckoned on, We trudge on and on
Across the sand and windswept plains
Off in the distance we see Sangre De Christo
Along with the La Plata mountains
For the Mountains are My Home.
The miles fall behind us like an unwanted burden
Up we climb higher into the sagebrush and juniper covered mesas
For the Mountains are My Home
I hear the call of the Eagle
My Spirit Soars,- floating high on the wind
Up above the Staked Plains
For the Mountains Are my Home
Dan'l Hickham
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