Scout's Own

Break not the silence with idle words;
These moments are too precious;
The spell is woven – let it be.
Cut not one thread, I beg of thee.

Let me but roam through the forest alone,
Or by the rippling waters,
That I in solitude may see
The world as God would have it be.

The gentle breeze makes the birches sway
As they gracefully arch o’re the water
Sheltering the lilies with petals white
As a mother bends o’er her babe at night.

Let me see these peaceful scenes and pray
That our man-made world, perhaps one day
Will be like this – full of peace and love,
And God will rejoice as He looks from above.

So break not the silence with idle words,
These moments are meant for meditation.
The spell is woven – let it be.
Cut not one thread, I get of thee.

​- Phyllis Ulin