The crickets are chirping; the cattle are lowing;
The oaks, the mesquites, and the cedars are growing;
And over the hills, the winds are still blowing,
Breathing the limestone and granite.
The sun, not yet shining, will soon fill the sky
With light, will enable the still-working eye
Nested in creases to see what goes by
Across hills of limestone and granite.
On the long roads, I am soon to drive,
Tracing the asphalt until I arrive
Somewhere else in this place where I've come to thrive
Amid hills of limestone and granite.