This Land Belongs To God

This Land Belongs to God In the fields the corn is turning a golden brown, Very soon the autumn leaves will float to the ground. One can feel the presence of God here each day, As I watch the farmer stack up his winter hay. The geese are making a landing out on the pond, The splash scares a doe and her little fawn. They rush off into the woods nearby, They look back only to tell the geese a final goodbye. Toward The Old Red Barn the cattle come to be warm, They know inside they will be safe from the winter storm. Old man winter is lurking just over the hill, He brings with him snow and a deep winter chill. So, as I sit looking out over the snow covered sod, I realize I cannot exist in a land without God. We’re being forced by some to drop God’s name, We will keep on fighting; we have to win this game. ©2014 Lynn B Glover