In the brilliance of the golden leaves
I feel His presence there.
Stirring through the quaking breeze
His Spirit fills the air.
Essence sweet with hints of pine
The air so fills and moves me,
That I am speechless, caught in time
Held hostage by the beauty.
I see Him there, I breathe Him there
And often kneel to render,
Heart-felt praise yet in despair
For words to tell His splendor.
Every year when colors change
My heart embraces fall.
A pilgrimage to cross the range
Then up the mountain calls.
Though vivid and alluring
Are the autumn Aspen hues,
They pale beneath the stirring…
Of when I kneel on golden pews.
By Tom Valles
“One of those days Jesus went out to a mountainside to pray, and spent the night praying to God.