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Touch Of Fall I awoke this morn' early the coffee smelled so good with cup in hand, I stepped onto the deck oh what a feeling I had! I felt it, in the air I smelled it every where, No doubt in my mind at all. leaves from the sycamore fell. Oh yes, there was a touch of fall. Something about that first feeling of fall, makes my dreams follow the mountains high. Makes my thoughts see bright colors, hues of orange, red, gold and rust. God is ready to show his art, in all it's beautiful splendor. The colors of fall, will be painted As we look in awe, knowing Only He can give such beauty. Written By: Redbird Jan Sept. 20, 2003 Please sign my Guest Book. Thank you! I have often heard the music to this beautiful song, but seldom have I heard the words. So thought I would share them with you all.. enjoy! You think you own whatever land you land on The earth is just a dead thing you can claim But I know ev'ry rock and tree and creature Has a life, has a spirit, has a name You think the only people who are people Are the people who look and think like you But if you walk the footsteps of a stranger You'll learn things you never knew you never knew Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned ? Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ? Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth Come roll in all the riches all around you And for once, never wonder what they're worth The rainstorm and the river are my brothers The heron and the otter are my friends In a cirle, in a hoop that never ends Have you ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon Or let the eagle tell you there he's been Can you sing with all the voices of the mountain ? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ? Can you paint with all the colors of the wind ? How high does the sycamore grow ? If you cut it down, then you'll never know And you'll never hear the wolf cry to the blue corn moon For whether we are white or copper-skinned We just sing with all the voices of the mountain Need to paint with all the colors of the wind You can own the earth and still All you'll own is earth until You can paint with all colors of the wind