In the warming sun we trust

despite the strong and chilly gust

The roar the cold, frisky stream make

sounds like music on its way to the lake             

In the heart of the valley’s ground

whose bottom is beautiful and grand

stand our canvas-covered little room

at the edge of the creek’s white spume.

The valley talks with a temple’s voice

It’s my obvious choice

when I want to forget life’s agony

and empty thoughts from my memory

Heather and low birch trees the slopes hides

The valley is surrounded on all sides

I see them as high walls with green vegetation

with the church’s form and nice decoration

The sky above, a beautiful blue sample

represents the vault on the natural temple

In the foreground where the altar should be placed

a weather-beaten cottage on plinths is raised

The church has a baptismal font of its own

in the little lake with a hollowed stone

Here the energy flow from the Great Spirit’s lands

I can almost scoop it out with my hands

Nice relaxed from life’s pain

and all obligations that remain

We’re walking up the aisle hand in hand

to a Red Bird song from Cherokee land

To the Creator and Spirit a homage is meant

for the beautiful pristine environment

Thanks my beloved valley, here I belong

We’ll return, perhaps with another song

© Kjell Åhsberg