We walked on Sunday mornings 

To a quiet place in the woods, 

All the campers sitting as if in church 

To hear the counselor most in tune with nature 

Speak of things which sounded true. 

It was lovely to sit and contemplate 

The sounds and sights of nature 

While listening to words which were meant to uplift, 

All the while knowing 

We would be young so long as the sky was blue. 

It was a gesture of respect to be treated as thinking boys 

That might benefit from a solemn word,

It was a gift to be led to this secreted place.

I better now understand its preciousness.

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