I prefer the pastures beyond the prairie,
way back without any glimpse of home-
for that’s where joy seems to find me-
it’s in seclusion I feel least alone.
I prefer the forest beyond the fields,
where treetops shield me from the outside world,
where the peaceful melodies of mother nature heals,
and the beauty of birds and animals unfold.
I prefer the dusty dirt road,
beyond where the gravel meets concrete-
where the wild wind blows,
and creeks and streams take the place of city streets.
I prefer watching sunrises and sunsets-
they’re more real than so called “reality t.v.”
Enjoy moving slow enough to relax and rest
under the cool shade of the sycamore tree.
I prefer working with my own two hands
and not being a slave to the American Dream-
restlessly trying to live up to more and more demands,
only to spend our lives earning more and more unneeded things.
Yes. I prefer the pastures beyond the prairie,
where Peace and the Creator graze,
where I can hear your silence speak to me
and mother nature endlessly sings your praise.