That mount belonged to an old friend,
But he’s gone now, he’s moved away;
Seeing what our kind had become,
He couldn’t stand another day.

The view to the North was dazzling,
High above the small lake below;
From his ledge that was his front porch,
He watched men travel to and fro.

For so many years he had hoped,
That all mankind would one day learn;
The meaning of the Word of God,
Seems too many would rather burn.

One day he found he’d had enough,
He could see man had no future;
Their love for each other was gone,
The wound was too great to suture.

He really didn’t have too much,
He packed up what little he had;
Decided it was time to go,
Yet, he couldn‘t help but feel sad.

“Father, I’ve been here a long time,
I’ve tried to help them do things right;
But they’ve ignored all of Your signs,
Now man has lost Your beacon’s light.

So, if it is okay with You,
I would really like to come home;
I can’t take it here anymore,
My soul’s becoming cold as stone."

Our Father listened to the man,
Said, “My son, come home to Heaven;
You’ll be at peace forevermore,
I’ll never send you back again.”

That sign from God stood night and day,
For more years than I care to count;
I mourn that your children won’t see,
How he proudly stood on that mount.

But the rocks and the winds that blow,
Will always remember his glory;
And for those of us who believe,
We'll continue to tell his story.

Of the Old Man of the Mountain,
Sent on down from Heaven above;
A sign that we should have followed,
Leading to God’s eternal love.

Cannon Mountain still belongs to him,
Though he’s left it and moved away;
Hated to go, but had no choice,
When he left on that fateful day.
 
© Copyright 2009 Paul D. Berube
All rights reserved